Today starts slow, and honestly, we all need it. The few of us who manage to drag ourselves to breakfast look like we’ve been hit by a snowplow. Blurry-eyed, running on fumes. Everyone agrees: this is a day for naps, recharging, and regrouping before heading back out on the water tonight.
By the time we board the boats again, the Arctic serves up another night of perfect conditions. The sea is flat calm—not a ripple—and the reflections are so clear it’s hard to tell what’s sky and what’s water. There’s some cloud cover, just enough to catch the light and add drama. And then we see it—a massive iceberg that looks like it’s glowing.
We’re all lining up our shots when Violet’s drone suddenly loses its mind and dive-bombs straight into the water. It’s gone in a flash. She stares at the spot it disappeared, somewhere between disbelief and heartbreak. That drone had been capturing some incredible footage… and now it’s part of the fjord.
Still, these nights keep getting better. The crew is incredible—quietly maneuvering the boat into perfect positions. Raymond and Vincenzo are in full swing again, scouting the best angles, barking out tips and orders, cracking sarcastic jokes.
The more time I spend out here, the less I think about what this trip cost. It doesn’t matter. Nothing can replace experiences like this. The memories, the moments, the people—it’s all been worth it. I’ll be thinking about this trip for a long time.
