Behind the Scenes of Our Maternal Den Study 2025

February 14, 2025

It doesn’t feel like it has been more than five years since my last trip to Svalbard, but the landscape looks drastically different—snow blankets the mountains, the temperatures are much colder, and the darkness is a stark contrast compared to the endless daylight of June.

I am very excited to be back to participate in this year’s maternal den study. Over the coming weeks, The Polar Bears International team, in partnership with the Norwegian Polar Institute and the San Diego Zoo Wildlife Alliance, will be deploying several remote camera systems to capture images and videos of female polar bears as they emerge from their dens with their newborn cubs in tow.

Each year before the field season begins, we receive updates from the Norwegian Polar Institute regarding known denning female polar bears in the Svalbard archipelago. The number and locations of dens vary annually, often scattered across large distances with different weather patterns and terrain conditions. This variability makes it impossible to plan a fixed order for our deployments. Success in the field depends on flexibility and readiness, as a window of opportunity can appear at any time and must not be missed.

Once we receive the den locations, staff begin extensive preparations for each site. This includes evaluating weather forecasts, anticipating snow conditions, identifying avalanche risks and other terrain hazards, and planning travel logistics such as skiing routes while hauling heavy pulks loaded with sensitive equipment. Another critical task is selecting a safe helicopter landing zone within a reasonable distance from the den. We are fortunate to work with a skilled team whose diverse backgrounds and familiarity with the terrain greatly contribute to a safe and efficient field season.

Weather conditions vary dramatically across Svalbard. One area may experience fog, snow, and high winds, while another enjoys sunshine and calm. This necessitates careful coordination with the local meteorologist to select the optimal deployment site each day. Even distance and helicopter logistics can limit access to certain sites, depending on fuel range, crew availability, and other operational commitments. These variables make every deployment a complex and strategic undertaking.

February 23, 2025

It has been a busy several days since the remainder of the team arrived in Longyearbyen early last week. Our time has been split between gear preparation and safety training, both critical to ensuring smooth and safe operations in the field. With the extreme conditions of Svalbard at 78°N latitude, every piece of equipment must be in top shape, and every team member must be prepared for the challenges ahead.

The Arctic winter is unforgiving, and working in Svalbard’s mountainous terrain where polar bears den presents unique hazards. To operate safely, we worked with the Norwegian Polar Institute, who guided us through wilderness first aid, avalanche safety, and non-lethal deterrent training—all essential skills for working in remote and unpredictable environments.

At the same time, our colleagues from the San Diego Zoo Wildlife Alliance have been hard at work on the Mini Den Cams, ensuring they are fully functional ahead of deployment in the coming weeks. Each year, we analyze past fieldwork to refine our approach—updating software, improving hardware, and leveraging new technology to enhance the research.

This work is a true collaboration. We very much appreciate the dedication of the Norwegian Polar Institute and the San Diego Zoo Wildlife Alliance, as well as the support and interest from you—our community. Your generosity makes this research possible, and for that we are extremely grateful.

February 24, 2025

We’ve successfully completed our first deployment of the season, and my very first deployment ever working on the polar bear maternal den project in Svalbard, Norway. There was a lot to take in throughout the day, and the experience is one I will not soon forget.

The mountainous landscape of Svalbard is unlike anything I’ve seen before. It is a stark contrast to the flat, coastal terrain of northern Manitoba, where I’ve grown accustomed to seeing polar bears. Time and time again polar bears continue to impress me and seeing the Svalbard archipelago firsthand and viewing this harsh landscape up close gave me an entirely new appreciation for what these animals are capable of, and what they must endure to raise their young.

We left Longyearbyen mid-morning by helicopter and were dropped off at the landing zone we had determined prior to our departure. The distinct thump of the helicopter blades faded behind the mountains—and then it was quiet. The sense of remoteness was hard to ignore. For those who seek this kind of solitude (of which I believe there are few), I can absolutely see the appeal. There’s nothing quite like it. I felt comfort knowing we were so well prepared with all essential gear and supplies, as an on-time pickup is not always guaranteed.

Before getting to work we scanned the surrounding area—and to our surprise, we spotted a second den nearby. This one was open and from what we could tell, still occupied. It is not uncommon for maternal dens to be clustered near one another but detecting them is incredibly difficult unless the entrance is exposed or the den is being used by another collared female. This unexpected find gave us a unique opportunity to position one of our trail cameras where it might capture the family as they emerge.

The den we had originally planned to monitor was still sealed, buried beneath a steep slope in a shallow gulley. Somewhere under that thick layer of undisturbed snow, a mother bear and her cub or cubs were tucked away. Without the collar location data provided by the Norwegian Polar Institute, we would never have found it—even an open den is incredibly difficult to spot in this vast landscape.

Our setup went just as planned, which was reassuring. All the practice and training ahead of the season paid off. We found a safe location for the camera—outside the avalanche runout zone and far enough from the den to avoid disturbing the bears. At this time of the year, daylight is returning rapidly but it’s still in short supply, so our time on the ground is dictated by both light and weather. We plan our drop-off and pickup windows carefully, knowing we might need every available minute.

Fortunately, the installation went smoothly, and we had enough time to complete our final checklist before skiing back to the landing zone. We wrapped up a quick meal of sausage and cheese as the hum of the helicopter grew louder in the distance. Moments later, the radio came to life—they were in range and on approach.

Normally, a window seat is not wasted on me, especially in a place like this. But I’ll admit, I dozed off for a short time during the return trip to Longyearbyen. Despite my best efforts to stay awake and soak in the view, I drifted off—maybe from the long day and the fresh air, or maybe just the satisfaction and relief of completing our first and hopefully not last successful deployment of the season.

February 28, 2025

Our second deployment was quite different from the first. The den was located on a steep slope, and to reach a suitable staging area for the camera, we first had to climb an equally steep incline to a rocky outcrop we had identified through binoculars. Such challenges are common—polar bears, unsurprisingly, do not choose their dens with our needs in mind. Recent warm weather and rain had made the slope slippery, and by the time we reached the site, we were all tired and sweaty from hauling the heavy pulk sleds uphill.

A small drainage separated us from the den, and unusually, we found ourselves looking down on it—a reversal of the typical vantage point. Despite the effort it took to reach this location, the view made it all worthwhile. The sun pierced through a gap in the mountains, illuminating a distant mountainside across the fjord. While the sun reaches Longyearbyen for the first time on March 8 each year, certain areas of the archipelago catch glimpses earlier. The low sun cast dramatic shadows, highlighting the dark rock exposed from beneath the melting snow and creating striking contrasts and textures. The constantly shifting light gave the same mountain a new look each time we glanced up.

With our first deployment completed, our efficiency had continued to improve, and this second setup went smoothly. After completing final checks and photographing the equipment for documentation, we began our descent to the landing zone. Even with lighter loads on the return, we proceeded with caution. Spikes on our boots provided essential traction on the icy slope.

Each departure brings a mix of excitement and apprehension. It will be weeks before we know if the cameras captured any footage. Equipment malfunctions, weather damage, curious wildlife, or simple human error could all prevent success. I am excited to see what we discover on the SD cards, but I am equally aware that we may find nothing. Such is the nature of polar bear field work.