Too much to bear: Open weekend at Fredheim cancelled by governor due to several polar bears located nearby

fredheimcancelled

Tourists take photos at the Fredheim trapping station at the entrance to Templefjorden, an area The Governor of Svalbard closed to motor traffic this spring due to people disturbing polar bears and seals in the area. Photo by Mark Sabbatini / Icepeople.

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An annual open weekend at the Fredheim trapping station at the entrance to Templefjorden has been cancelled this weekend due to the presence of multiple polar bears in the vicinity, The Governor of Svalbard announced Thursday. The announcement comes a day after the inner portion of the fjord was closed to motorized traffic due to numerous incidents of wildlife being disturbed.

“The reason why we are cancelling is that several polar bears, including an mother with two cubs, have been located relatively close to the trapping station at Fredheim,” Morten Wedege, the governor’s environmental protection manager, said in a prepared statement. “Combined with the need to use resources on enhanced surveillance in connection with newly introduced traffic restrictions, this means that we unfortunately did not get to hold the open day Fredheim as planned this weekend.”

The open weekends hosted by the governor typically feature presentations about the station established by legendary trapper Hilmar Nøis, plus other history including the relocation a few years ago from its original spot due to coastal erosion. The weekend may be scheduled later this season if the situation with polar bears and motorized traffic changes.

About Post Author

Mark Sabbatini

I'm a professional transient living on a tiny Norwegian island next door to the North Pole, where once a week (or thereabouts) I pollute our extreme and pristine environment with paper fishwrappers decorated with seemingly random letters that would cause a thousand monkeys with a thousand typewriters to die of humiliation. Such is the wisdom one acquires after more than 25 years in the world's second-least-respected occupation, much of it roaming the seven continents in search of jazz, unrecognizable street food and escorts I f****d with by insisting they give me the platonic tours of their cities promised in their ads. But it turns out this tiny group of islands known as Svalbard is my True Love and, generous contributions from you willing, I'll keep littering until they dig my body out when my climate-change-deformed apartment collapses or they exile my penniless ass because I'm not even worthy of washing your dirty dishes.
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