articles/Landscape/arctic-page2

Into the Arctic Circle - part 2 of 1 2 3

by Paul Gallagher Published 01/10/2013

Although it was very cold I was so glad I had travelled here in the winter months. The light was fleeting and the sky could be filled with heavily laden clouds which could suddenly engulf you in a full blizzard of driving winds. The fjords where astonishing places in which to work. As you stood here in silence on the water's edge you could hear the ice cracking and moving as the tides moved in and out during the day. There was one particular morning when we headed deep onto the south of the islands when I noticed huge cracks in the ice on the fjord below the road. It was a fine morning and the sun was out with a deep blue sky and I just had to park the car and find a way down to explore the photographic opportunities. As I reached the edge of the frozen fjord, the cracks in the ice where actually much further away than I had envisaged which meant that if I was to get close enough to set up my camera I would be forced to walk out onto the ice. I should explain at this stage that the ice forms over night as the temperatures plummet and at certain times this happens when the tide is at it's highest during the night. As the sea level lowers during the retreating tide the following morning, the ice on the surface of the fjord rests on the boulder fields below and so the ice cracks.

I was left with a pretty difficult predicament. Do I take the risk of walking onto the ice sheet to reach the cracks and risk going under, or do I compromise and stay on solid ground and make do with what I had? It is my belief that I had come here to make good images and to challenge myself, and I also believe that if you do not take risks then life gets boring!

I soon donned my salopettes and ice spikes on my boots and walked out onto the ice sheet.

As I carefully made my way out I heard Michael, my fellow photographer who travelling with me shout, "You must be mad!" With my heart pounding I placed every foot slowly and I could feel the large sheets of ice flexing and I could hear them cracking. After about five minutes I placed my camera bag down right on the edge of the thinnest ice and gingerly set up several compositions that I had seen from the safety of the car.

Having made the exposures I was delighted and then realised I had to make my return journey back to the water's edge. I made it back, and with a huge sigh of relief, flopped myself down onto the soft snow and Michael then said he had taken a picture of me out there on the ice. It was worth every moment and the resulting images are ones I will cherish for years.

Although not to the same extent, this process of exploring the ice and fjords and working on the water's edge continued throughout the week.

The farther south you head down the peninsula, the steeper the mountains get, and they almost come soaring out of the water in front of you. The most dramatic locations for this were at Ramberg and Reine. The best coastal location was, by far, Flakstad as there are small coastal roads leading to tiny hamlets with fish racks and little harbours, and the geology and rocks on the edge of the fjords could have easily enticed me to stay there for days on end. I experienced some of the best evening light here as the storms cleared to give soft blue skies and a warm orange glow from the sun on the distant mountains.

• Into the Arctic Circle page 1
  
• Into the Arctic Circle page 2
  
• Into the Arctic Circle page 3
  

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