North of North, Part 2: The First Encounter
Structuring a daily routine required some important decisions. Depending on weather conditions we could spend about 6 to maximum 7,5 hours searching for, and photographing wildlife. But ultimately, the Arctic climate's icy fangs would tear through our layers of protective clothing and penetrate even the best boots and gloves. Every day we had to decide when and where to invest our en energy.
During April, direct sunlight rapidly expands towards 24hrs. To provide an example for Eureka Weather Station, 80° N., April 2026:
01 April, Sunrise 04:36h - Sunset 21:05h
06 April, Sunrise 03:38h - Sunset 22:03h
13 April, Sunrise 01:19h - sun will not set until 29 September at 23:59h
After being blocked in camp again on the second day due to dangerous weather conditions, we eventually decided to head out searching for Arctic wolves on the afternoon of day three. From then on we would make it our standard procedure to leave camp at around 15:00hrs, and later on the following days, and return to camp between 23:00h and midnight. After sunset, golden light very slowly turned to blue light. White would turn to pastel orange, pink, and eventually purple and blue. As of 13 April, the midnight sun no longer disappeared below the horizon. Days were patiently spent in camp. Nights between ca. 21:00h and 03:00h belonged to our cold-soaked cameras. The stage was set, but not in our wildest imaginations could any of us anticipate what was to come.
An Ausuittuq Adventures expedition in April and May 2025 encountered three wolves only. The Eureka pack had apparently broken up or lost some members during dark winter. Three animals had somehow survived. However, when our expedition lead team set up base camp in the first fortnight of March 2026, they observed a few wolves and found more fresh tracks in the area. We decided to first head for the hills and valleys below the airfield near Eureka Sound instead of exploring the vast, rough creeks and valleys to our east towards Sawtooth Ridge. Knowing that we were looking for a tiny needle in a rather huge haystack, I adjusted my personal expectation settings to "close to zero". Little did we know what was to unfold throughout the following days. -
It was Silas who first spotted a tiny dot moving in the far distance. Whiteish on white. We agreed to approach, but stop at a distance to ensure we wouldn't scare away any animal we'd encounter. Once settled, we were to get our cameras out and start with safety shots before any attempt at approaching closer was to be undertaken. Very carefully and as slowly as possible our ski-dos crept up a steep slope and just as Aberham and I crossed the ridge, we found ourselves in the presence of a few Arctic wolves. Three or four at first, but no, there were more stirring in the snow! We stopped immediately. I carefully extracted my 600mm f/4 lens with a Z9 body attached, dug out a battery from the pocket of my third mid-layer down jacket, inserted the battery and attached lens and camera to my tripod, and returned my ThinkTank bag to the relative safety of the sled attached to a ski-doo.
Sticking to the original plan of first observing the animals' behaviour and then starting to photograph paid off for me. I positioned myself a few paces away from the ski-dos and waited. It took but a moment before what we later learned was the Alpha female began to circle in on me. In a curious, rather than an aggressive way. But with a body language ascertaining that no opportunity for a meal was ever going to be passed up out here.
The first encounter was a huge relief. In a moment, the disappointment I suffered during the 2023 expedition was gone. Later, back in camp I told myself that even if this would be the extent of our observations, I would return with a warm heart and a beautiful portfolio. How could any of us have known what we were to experience during the following 15 days!
This gallery combines photographs of Arctic wolves (Canis lupus arctos) from the first three days, captured along the shores and on the open ice of Slidre Fiord near Eureka Sound, between Ellesmere and Axel Heiberg Island. Oh, and there is a single Arctic hare (Lepus arcticus) we observed going about his business and allowing us to get close enough for photography in a brutally cold white-out after sunset!
I hope you enjoy what you find here!
