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Posts published in March 2022

Random weirdness for the week of March 29, 2022: Yet another UFO visits Svalbard, where people and NFTs are fleeing toward to be saved from the sun and pillagers

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Read Time:4 Minute, 1 Second

UFO (hey, it’s unidentified to us) over seas of Svalbard via Google Earth

We’re not sure why it qualifies as news, even for a British tabloid, since UFOs and their occupants have a sizeable presence in Svalbard (source: internet), but a shoutout nonetheless to Edward Jones (not to be confused with the financial guru who’s high on coke) for spotting the latest invader in a Google Earth image of the seas near the coast. Of course there’s tons of naysayers saying it’s actually Jesus, Michael Jackson, Bobba Fett piloting Slave One (thus not an “unidentified” alien craft) or even a passing seagull…but in terms of getting headlines they’re not keeping up with the Jones’  version of The Truth.

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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RAINBOW DISCONNECTION: Greenpeace’s (in)famous ship Esperanza is retiring after two decades, including lots of Svalbard voyages that shamed the powerful and themselves

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Read Time:6 Minute, 46 Second

Photo of Greenpeace ship Esperanza during a “seizure” of a Statoil rig near Bjørnøya courtesy of Greenpeace

They staged Svalbard’s first-known political protest by seizing the coal pier at the Svea coal mine – then got busted upon departure for having vast amounts of undeclared beer.

They shamed Norway’s government by exposing oil exploration tests in Svalbard that were hastily abandoned. But their seizure of an oil rig near Bjørnøya was laughed off by Statoil since it was dry and abandoned, and drilling had already moved further north.

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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MARCHING ON HIGH: New temperature record for month as Ny-Ålesund hits 5.5C on Wednesday – 17C above normal – and 42.6mm of rain falls; Longyearbyen also gets wet thaw

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Read Time:1 Minute, 52 Second

Photo by Ine-Therese Pedersen / Norwegian Meteorological Institute

Surely there are upsides to mountainsides and streets being filled with tons of flowing slush during a torrential rain. But for experts and mere mortals opining about a record heat wave hitting Svalbard on Wednesday the only optimism was about returning to typical subzero winter conditions – and even that brings its own deluge of problems.

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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GAS PAINS: Fuel in Longyearbyen tops 10 kroner a liter in wake of Ukraine invasion – which is 17 kroner cheaper than on the mainland, but locals are still griping it’s too expensive

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Read Time:2 Minute, 10 Second

(Editor’s “call it karma” note: As this story was being written Svalbard Auto posted a notice on Facebook that its payment terminal is out of order, so gas cannot be purchased at all during non-business hours. The station is scheduled to be open extended hours from 8 a.m. to 6 p.m. Saturday.)

Gas is selling for an unprecedented high of 27 kroner a liter in some mainland locations and the price is expected to continue increasing due to Russia’s invasion of Ukraine. As such, there’s grumbling among media and motorists about why gas and diesel at Longyearbyen’s only station is barely above 10 kroner a liter, given Svalbard’s remoteness and all.

As it turns out, Longyearbyen residents are also grumbling about the 10 kroner a liter gas, because it’s higher than they’re used to paying.

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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WOMEN’S TIME TO SHINE: Sun returns to main part of Longyearbyen after nearly four months, thanks to persistence of ladies with lyrics, to highlight annual Solfestuka week

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Read Time:4 Minute, 7 Second

Photo by Eva Grøndal

Every year on this date there’s “sun” ritual unique to Longyearbyen, even if it features chants, songs and other traditions seen in cultures for thousands of years. But on this particular year it’s the word “ritual” needing quotes around it, because it seems all those words of adoration and coaxing were necessary for an impact that was supernatural instead of just ceremonial.

The Polargospel children’s choir sang their tradition songs, emcee Vigdis Jensen performed the annually familiar “Here Comes The Sun” by The Beatles and just before 12:50 p.m. Tuesday the crowd of many hundreds began the usual chant that (translated in part into English) begins “Sun! Sun! Come Again!”

But after nearly four months without sunlight in the main part of Longyearbyen, still a ray was not to be seen on the cloudy southern horizon.

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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UNITY FOR UKRAINIANS – AND NEARLY FOR LOCAL RUSSIANS: Svalbard residents from both countries live, work and protest invasion together; but not all agree on how to show support

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Read Time:5 Minute, 23 Second

Photo by Kristin Woxholth

Nazarii Khomych says her mother is making food for Ukrainian soldiers, her father is helping protect their city, and the threat of immediate danger is also present for other family members and friends. But she says a protest march and rally during a frigid Tuesday night in the world’s northernmost city still managed to bring warmth to them from afar.

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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