October 9th, Sallyhamnen, 79.7° N 11.2°E

Today we saw three fat walruses asleep in front of an abandoned cabin.  A wet snow fell from a dark gray sky.  Later we came across seven polar bears eating the rotting carcass of a minke whale.  From the peaks above they had slid down fat tracks indented in the snow, making the whole area look like a polar bear ski resort.  Baby bears played in the snow with their parents and each other.  Two arctic foxes padded by, hoping for a taste.  The mouths of the bears were covered in blood as they came down to the shore and smiled again as they reached for the carcass to pull off another piece of rancid meat.  We all snapped as many photos as we dared.

Later I played my soprano saxophone aboard the zodiac as we motored close to the whiteblue tongue of a glacier.  The scene was being filmed by Italian artist Andrea Galvani for a giant photograph he would later print from a 4x5 or 6x7 camera.  The one reproduced here is digital, ‘which I use,’ he said, ‘like a polaroid.’  I was wearing his Italian raincoat because it looked much more cool than my own high-tech gear.  Everything was black.  The boatmen lay down on the floor of the zodiac so we wouldn't be seen, making it look like I was out there all alone.  A wire ran from my saxophone into the sea to make it look like I was playing right into the water, down to the hydrophone to broadcast my sound to any whales who might be listening below.  I have done this many times before but this time, as winter approaches, there are no whales in the fjord.  Plenty of blood-stained yellowish polar bears but their attentions were elsewhere, decimating that stinky dead whale.

The lone saxophone tones echoed off the stark mountain walls.  Once I figured out the length of the reverberation I could time my phrases so a minimalist rhythm could be formed by the bouncing of the sounds off the two mountains.  The echo turned time into space and made this one little instrument beat into the sides of the landscape, a golden reflection dancing off the descending light.  Snow continued to fall, beginning to collect on the bell of the horn and the floor of the boat.  The photographer was shouting instructions at me from the kayak as it faded away into the mist.  All became soon invisible, I forgot where I was and who this music was for.  A fulmar shrieked.  A bear roared in the distance.  He climbed into the still green water and started to swim.