Svalbard, a remote Arctic Archipelago situated halfway between mainland Norway and the North Pole, is a realm of dramatic landscapes and extreme conditions. It is a land of large barren glaciers and windblown peaks, mountain slopes, and frozen fjords at the bottom. This fragile ecosystem, shaped by ice and snow, is home to an incredible array of wildlife that has adapted to its harsh environment. Among them, the polar bear reigns as the apex predator, navigating a rapidly changing landscape that is reshaping its behaviours and survival strategies.

As we stood on the icy expanse of Svalbard in late April, the horizon stretched before us like an infinite white canvas on which the artistic winter light painted otherworldly hues of pink and blue. The sheer vastness of the landscape overwhelmed our senses. Each breath we took crystallised in the frigid air. Surrounded by a pristine wilderness, we were immersed in a symphony of silence. In this grandeur, we were humble, small observers. Yet, in this fateful night, we were about to witness an overwhelming behaviour as our team encountered several reindeer carcasses scattered along the fjord coast and its numerous side valleys.

My friend and expedition leader Oskar Strøm, spotted a female polar bear resting. It wasn’t long before she was on the move again, following the coastline. Suddenly, she took the direction of the hills and tracked a group of reindeer, stalking her prey with a precision born of instinct. Once within range of the animals, and to the team’s surprise, the bear relentlessly chased them, showing no signs of giving up despite the initial gap between them.

As the chase continued down into the valley, the reindeer struggled through deeper snow. One individual split off from the herd, turning right. The bear took a shorter turn to quickly close the distance. With the reindeer exhausted in the deep snow, the bear jumped upon it like a lion on its prey. The hunt was over. The bear then began pulling at the reindeer’s fur while biting its neck to finish the kill. Seeing her incredible hunt unfold before our eyes was nothing short of magical, a demonstration of the sheer power and grace of this magical predator.

This eventful night was the first time such a winter hunt had been documented in this way, leaving our team in awe. But the surprise didn’t end there as we soon discovered that this female polar bear was making daily kills throughout the winter, explaining the numerous carcasses we had previously encountered. We were quick to name her ‘the Grinch’ – a suitable name for her love for preying on reindeer.

Later that same year, I also encountered this type of hunting behaviour happening in another fjord system with other polar bears. In the same fjord system where we witnessed the first predation on reindeer, we soon learned that another family with two yearling cubs – cubs that are one year or older, but still smaller than their mother – hunted reindeer too. They were the cubs of the polar bears Elsa, Svetlana and her brother that we filmed for Disney Nature’s Polar Bear film when they were just four months old.