Svalbard Is For Storytellers
Recapping an unforgettable group adventure to the Arctic Circle
Last summer, I posted a simple question on Instagram: who wants to join me on a trip to the Arctic Circle? What I didn’t expect was nearly 200 people raising their hands and requesting details.
This prompt wasn’t random. Two years prior, I’d travelled to Svalbard and had the experience of a lifetime. I went from someone who never shot landscapes and hated the cold to spending hours outdoors building a visual study through shades of blue.
As crazy as it may sound, Svalbard changed me, my work, and my worldview. So after three years of traversing the polar regions, I had to go back. But this time, I wanted to bring a group of photographers to share the journey with.
The Group
Eight months later, that Instagram prompt crystallized into 24 adventurers from across the globe converging in Helsinki. Here’s the thing, before we even touched down on the tarmac at our destination, the atmosphere was already buzzing. The camaraderie was instantaneous. These weren’t casual tourists looking for a safe holiday. They were deeply engaged individuals looking to push past their comfort zones and check off a bucket list experience. My kind of tribe.
After quick introductions and surprise goodie bags, we boarded an early morning charter flight out of Helsinki, tracking north toward Longyearbyen. Under the guidance of a seasoned expedition team, our group would spend the better part of ten days circumnavigating one of the most remote regions in the Arctic Circle.
The Gear
For this trip, I was fortunate enough to have a pre-release Leica SL3-P, which served as my primary camera to document the adventure. My battle-tested Leica SL3 Reporter would serve as a backup. For lenses, I brought my trusted pairing of the SL 24-90mm and 90-280mm. This would be plenty for my needs but given the potential for rare wildlife encounters, I had my cinematographer bring his Sigma 60-600mm and a 2x teleconverter for extra reach. (This would prove vital for later in the trip)
Even though it wouldn’t see much reps, I also brought my Leica M11 with a Summilux 35mm F1.4 lens. Why? Because I just never leave home without it.
All my gear, along with batteries, a laptop, and storage, fit neatly into my WANDRD PRVKE 31L backpack. In my opinion, no one makes a better backpack solution for travel and adventure photography.
My team and I would be working early mornings and late nights putting together stories for the Quark Expeditions team. To process everything, I packed my Mac Studio and two Espresso Displays. It might seem like overkill to some but given the nature of our work, I need a setup that’s powerful and can scale up as needed.
Now that you know what kept the workflow running, let’s talk about the adventure.
Familiar Territory
Stepping off the plane and passing through Norwegian customs, you’re immediately struck by the history of Svalbard. Founded over a century ago as a rugged coal-mining settlement, Longyearbyen carries a wild history against this ominous backdrop.
We spent a few hours exploring the town before boarding our ship, meeting the world-class expedition team, and settling into our cabins. I’ve gotten to know many of the Quark guides over the last few years and I always tell people that this isn’t some country club cruise where you sit back and watch the world float past. This is a true expedition company that hosts like-minded travellers on a small, beautifully equipped vessel.
When it came to our group on this ship, nobody was looking for an easy stroll in the sun. Everyone was hunting for stories, adventure, and memories that would reflect a life well-lived.
Calibrating The Mind And Body
On our first morning, the sun was gleaming across Krossfjorden. The blues bouncing off the water and ice were as vibrant as I remembered. I sent a quiet, internal thank you to the skies right then. It was just a moment of pure gratitude for a breathtaking reintroduction to the high Arctic. I spent about an hour shooting from the top deck of the ship’s Panorama Lounge. It’s this spectacular space that offers a sweeping, uninterrupted view of the landscape.
Soon enough, the loudspeakers hummed to life. It was Ryan McDevitt, our Expedition Leader, with his signature, “Good morning, good morning...”
It was time for our first excursion.
We geared up, stepped onto our Zodiacs, these heavy rubber pontoons, and floated into the glassy waters of a fjord branch. It wasn’t long before our guide spotted bearded seals lazily lounging on floating slabs of ice. It was here I learned a fascinating bit of local ecology: the distinct, rusty red colouring across their faces and necks is the direct result of iron deposits they dig up from the seafloor while feeding.
For the group, it was a mini masterclass in Arctic wildlife. For me, it was a calibration phase: re-training my muscles, hands, and eyes to the fluid rhythm of shooting from a moving watercraft. Operating a super-telephoto lens on a floating Zodiac is more dance than science. And I’ll admit that one day one, I was dancing with two left feet.
Later that afternoon, we transitioned into the expanse of Fjortende Julibukta. I’d stood in this exact bay two years prior but this time the Arctic offered a completely different face with clear skies.
Our mission for the afternoon was navigating the waters below the bird cliffs to spot puffins. These cheeky birds are notoriously tricky to capture here because they’re far less common than other nesting seabirds. But we managed to find a handful floating on the water.
Trying to frame a tiny, fast-moving bird on choppy water while handholding a massive 600mm lens paired with a 2x teleconverter is a serious workout. Your arms burn, your core is locked, and the water is constantly trying to dictate your composition. In that moment of colliding obstacles, I just gave in and leaned into the chaos.
From there, we pushed deeper into the icy waters near the glacial face, where freshwater runoff meets the sea. Watching massive blocks of ice calve off the main structure and crash into the ocean never ceases to be a humbling reminder of nature’s scale.
The Air, The Land, and The Sea
Armed with the new SL3-P, my focus shifted toward an editorial project that, if successful, could serve as a testament to the spirit of our trip. I wanted to execute a conceptual fashion shoot in the high Arctic structured as a triptych representing three distinct elements: air, land, and sea. To pull this off in such a volatile environment, I needed an incredible team and absolute trust in the tools.
My good friend and fellow Leica Ambassador, Alex Drewniak, took the reins as Art Director, mapping out a stunning collection of looks, while our incredible muse, Sharuka, provided the physical presence needed to match the scale of the environment. Crucially, we had the permission and support of Ryan and his team to tackle this impromptu shoot.
For the sea component, we took a Zodiac out into the overwhelming cliffs of Alkefjellet. If you’ve never seen it, Alkefjellet is a geometric marvel where towering basalt columns shoot 100 metres straight out of the water. These structures serve as the wild breeding grounds for tens of thousands of Brünnich’s guillemots.
This shoot was a true trial by fire with the SL3-P. Picture this: two expedition staff managing navigation and safety, Alex overseeing looks while holding our off-camera flash, Sharuka fighting every instinct to show how cold it was, one of my cinematographers weaving around us to document the experience, and me trying to capture the frames we needed.
The conditions were ruthless, and the SL3-P handled them flawlessly. Its intuitive ergonomics and responsive handling gave me instant confidence. I could breathe a sigh of relief by the end of this session. If the camera delivered here, it’ll be fine for the rest of the voyage.
On day five, we pivoted to the air component, which was shot directly on the ship’s heli deck. We’d travelled through the pack ice along the eastern side of Spitsbergen, navigating to the massive ice front of Bråsvellbreen that stretched out behind us like a Game of Thrones-esque wall of ice.
This location provided an unreal palette of deep, vibrant blue tones that beautifully set the mood. Given the extra space, I invited a few members of our group to rally together and help us pull off the shoot quickly, safely, and with technical precision.
The final piece of the puzzle was the land component and came together at the southern tip of Svalbard in Hornsund. We ventured into Austre Burgerbukta, which is this breathtaking glacial bay flanked by sharp mountains and the dramatic Wibebreen tidewater glacier. Once again, Alex worked her styling magic and we captured the final look against the stark textures of the valley.
Executing this impromptu, high-concept project in one of the most remote places on Earth, surrounded by trusted friends I’ve met along this path, will stand as one of the finest milestones of my creative journey.
I encourage you to view the full gallery of images here.
Friction As A Constant
While the creative victories felt incredible, the Arctic is always keeping score. A major theme of this journey was an open-minded willingness to observe how time and climate are actively reshaping these spaces.
On day three, we made a landing at Texas Bar, a historic spot in Liefdefjord. It features a weathered trapper hut built back in 1927 by Hilmar and Martin Nøis, who spent nearly four decades living in Spitsbergen!
Today, the cabin stands in remarkable condition and serves as a vital emergency shelter from polar bears, a historical logbook for travellers, and an eccentric communal repository of spirits left behind by previous expeditions.
As we set out from the beach for a long hike into the hills, the physical landscape would tell a specific story. Much of the winter snow on the lower ground had already melted away, leaving only small pockets of white in the higher ridges. The terrain felt completely different from the deep snow cover I’d navigated during my mid-May expedition two years prior.
Reaching the high ridge, our entire group shared a few minutes of absolute silence. Standing together with no sound but the wind moving across the tundra allowed everyone to just fully absorb the quiet peace of the North.
That reflective mood carried over into our afternoon cruise around Monacobreen. Named after Prince Albert I of Monaco from his early 20th-century mapping expeditions, the glacier here is a stunner. What was pretty recently a single, massive wall of ice had visibly retreated into two separate fronts: Monacobreen and Seligerbreen.
Seeing that physical separation with my own eyes was a tangible reminder of just how much ancient ice is being lost to the sea year after year. It reinforces why I make these trips, why I document these spaces, and why I share these stories.
On our final expedition day, we landed at Alkhornet, a majestic horn-shaped mountain in Northern Isfjorden National Park. The sun was shining so bright we actually had to break out the sunscreen.
We started with an easy trek across the rich green tundra, watching local reindeer and foxes forage below the massive seabird colonies. However, the route down quickly transformed into a disciplined descent over uneven slopes. Navigating the loose stone required real concentration and teamwork. This was a good reminder that safety out here isn’t guaranteed. It’s earned through trust, patience, and discipline.
The Beacon That Build Bonds
The true soul of our voyage would inevitably come down to the shared human experience. After our hike at Monacobreen, we returned to the ship for an unforgettable rite of passage: the polar plunge. Over a dozen of us stripped down on the disembarkation deck, gathered our collective nerve, and threw ourselves off the platform into the freezing Arctic waters.
The immediate shock to the nervous system is something you can’t fully prepare for. But sharing that vulnerability and laughter, followed by a long session in the sauna looking out at the glacial ice, would anchor this deep communal bond of the trip.
That sense of shared gratitude would peak late on our fourth evening. We’d sailed north, pushing past the boundaries of Svalbard into the high Arctic pack ice. After dinner, as the ship drifted through frozen slabs, one of our expedition guides spotted a polar bear in the distance!
The captain immediately cut the engines and the announcement went out asking every soul on board to maintain absolute silence so as not to startle the animal.
What followed was over 60 minutes of pure magic. Driven by natural curiosity, the bear would slowly close the distance between us. It sauntered across the ice floes until it was standing right beside our ship.
The bear walked around the hull, spent a few quiet moments exploring the area directly behind our stern, and then calmly headed back out into the white expanse.
I’m no wildlife photographer but standing on that silent deck alongside every creative on the ship gave me this immense feeling of fulfillment. It was my very first close encounter with a polar bear. And the collective understanding of how rare and privileged we were would bound our group together even tighter.
On day six, during some downtime, we gathered all our Leica friends in the lounge for a massive gear photo. My good friend Aaron Bludworth, who possesses an encyclopedic knowledge of the Leica catalogue, put on a brilliant parlour trick where he appraised the entire collection. The final tally? Over $282,000 USD sitting in front of us.
Not quite enough to buy the ship, ha.
Our final nights were filled with live music, endless conversations, and hilariously intense games of Uno that lasted well into the night. When the onboard photography guide, Julie Chandelier, presented the official voyage slideshow on our final evening, seeing our collective memories flash across the screen brought the entire experience home.
Here we were, 24 misfits from all over the world with vastly different lived experiences, reflecting on the trip of a lifetime. After days committed to daily excursions, great meals, and howling laughs, we sat together and celebrated something that could never happen again.
At least, not like this.
If I had to describe Svalbard to someone, I’d say it’s a place for storytellers. When I look back on this expedition, more than the images, more than the polar bears, and even more than the spectacular meals, I’m filled with gratitude for the people I got to share this space with and the stories we collected.
Photography is so much more than a collection of images on screens or prints on paper. It can serve as this wondrous beacon that can pull a ragtag group of individuals from completely different walks of life and scatter them across the Arctic Circle to share a sh*t ton of laughs over a deeply lived journey. It all comes together for stories. Stories that bind us, shape us, and inspire us moving forward.
So, What’s Next?
To the surprise of no one, I’m already itching for the next group trip and with the help of my friends at Quark Expeditions, I won’t have to wait long.
I’m proud to announce that next year I’ll be hosting a group trip to Antarctica.
Over twelve days, we’ll sail across the Drake Passage to explore the Weddell Sea by water, land, and air. From Zodiac cruising to challenging hikes and even heli experiences, there’s going to be no shortage of adventure options. More than anything, this is an opportunity to build bonds with creatives from all over the world through one incredible adventure. And create new stories.
I should stress: this is not a workshop. This is a shared photography experience where like-minded creatives can embark on a once-in-a-lifetime journey to the 7th continent. That being said, there will be a lot to learn alongside the incredible guides from Quark Expeditions. We’ll enrich our experience with wildlife interpretation, geology, history, and photography guidance to make the most of every moment.
My group for this trip is limited to 25 people and our exclusive offer is only available to book until October 31st, 2026. If you’re interested in joining this adventure, you can find all the details here to reserve your spot.
For those that join, I look forward to sharing this adventure with you.
This Week’s Sponsor: Espresso Displays
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Use code GAJAN10 at checkout to save 10% on your first order. And if you do try one out, let me know how it goes. I’d love to hear about your experience.
Upcoming Events & Workshops
My first ever fine-art print will be available from Aug 9-15th. If you’d like to support my work and own a piece of my journey, learn more here.
New York Photowalk
I’ll be in NYC early September and will host a photowalk of some kind. Stay tuned for details in the coming weeks.
India: North & South Street Photography Workshop
If you’re looking for an authentic and unforgettable street photography adventure across India, this workshop is for you. One seat is open for my workshop from February 5th-15th next year. Email me to reserve your spot.
Video for Photographers Masterclass (LONDON)
Our last Video for Photographers experience was a hit. If you’re a photographer looking to expand your skillset with video, this is the best workshop you can invest in. Email me to reserve your spot for early 2027.
What’s Next?
I’m currently on Quark Expedition’s Ocean Explorer vessel and prepping for one of my most ambitious projects to date. Stay tuned for some special updates in the weeks to come.
GB
What an adventure. Great write up.