— Liya, how did you end up on this vessel?
— It all began with my strong wish to combine science and travel. For two years I observed Himalayan black bears in Primorye, and then four years studying brown bears in Kamchatka.
Later my husband and I moved to Germany. Continuing in science from Russia was difficult – especially in my field. I am trained as a field zoologist, specialising in the behaviour of large predators, above all bears. But there was hardly any work in my profession. So I sent my CV to various expedition companies.
— And they hired you?
— Yes, but the story is quite unusual. I came across a post on Facebook, in the group Jobs at Sea. An expedition company was looking for an ornithologist. I applied, just to make a start in the job search, fully convinced that nothing would come of it. Yet an hour later I received a reply: “Please send us more information.” There was a short interview. They said they would think about it – and another hour later wrote back to say they would take me on. Apparently they urgently needed someone with my background. That’s how I got here.

— You mentioned that you studied the behaviour of bears.
— Yes. For two years I worked with Himalayan black bears, and then four years with brown bears. We carried out field observations in southern Kamchatka, where the density of these animals is very high. It was a unique opportunity: you don’t just see a bear – you know who it is, because we observed the same individuals year after year. You see, it’s like following a series: you know how they react to one another, how they feed, how they communicate.

— Are such field observations rare?
— In Russia, yes. Hardly any long-term studies with individual identification of bears had ever been carried out. But we did just that. We studied their feeding behaviour, social behaviour, and their reactions to tourists. Because there were many tourists – and it was important for us to understand how their presence affected predators.
— And what conclusions did you draw?
— Behaviour does change. But in different ways. Some become accustomed, others move away. Bears are individuals. Our task was not only to observe, but to understand how they adapt, how they respond to external factors. It requires patience – but it also gives an incredible sense of belonging.

— Are you working at a scientific institute now?
— Yes, but not as a scientist – as a technical assistant. It’s important work too: we process data on bird migrations. I help colleagues enter information into databases and prepare it for analysis. It’s a large European project involving transmitters and satellite tracking, with dozens of countries taking part.
— But you missed field observations?
— Of course. I love working “on the ground” – or, more accurately, “on the ice.” Here on board I once again have the chance to observe. It may not be long-term research, but such expeditions offer the opportunity to witness something unique.

— You mentioned that even short observations during expeditions can be valuable.
— Absolutely. There was one case – not witnessed by me personally, but by colleagues sailing on a vessel after ours – when 200 polar bears were feeding at the same time on the carcass of a dead whale. It was on Wrangel Island. They didn’t fight. They all fed together. This is now a documented fact. Such behaviour is described in no textbook, and our colleagues were able to record it in detail so that science now knows it is possible.
— Why is that important?
— Because these are rare behavioural scenarios. This isn’t a laboratory – it’s reality. Sometimes one brief episode gives more than a month of standard observations. That is what makes such expeditions valuable: you might stumble upon a phenomenon no one has ever seen before.
— And do you yourself keep records, photos, materials?
— Of course. We always carry binoculars, cameras, GPS. And although it’s not full-scale academic research, we record everything and keep field notes. Sometimes we even publish them as short scientific reports. It is also a contribution to science, modest perhaps, but important because the observations are made in the animals’ and birds’ natural environment.

— Liya, you mentioned recording whale tails. Is that part of a scientific project?
— Yes. We photograph the flukes of humpback whales – the underside is unique, like a fingerprint. The images are uploaded to the Happy Whale database, an international citizen science project. It allows researchers to track whale migrations: where they have already been, how often they have been seen, how far they travel.
— And you do this together with guests?
— Of course. We try to involve them – to observe, to record, to discuss. Guests find it fascinating when they realise it’s not just an excursion – they are taking part in genuine scientific research. It nurtures a completely different attitude towards nature.
— What else do your observations include?
— We record bird sightings along the vessel’s route: which species, in what numbers, and where they were seen. This is especially important in areas where scientists rarely go – for example, when passing along the edge of the pack ice. Sometimes we even note the appearance of species not typical for that latitude – which is important for understanding climate change.

— What changes in bird behaviour do you notice in connection with warming?
— A great deal. Sub-Arctic species are moving further north and pushing out the locals. But the local species are highly specialised. Those that have lived for thousands of years with short summers, permanent ice, and hunting for very specific prey – they cannot cope with the competition. Generalists have a broader ecological niche, they simply survive more effectively.
— Can you give an example?
— Take the Arctic fox and the red fox. The red fox is larger, more versatile, more aggressive. It simply takes over the Arctic fox’s territory – eating its young, taking its dens, its resources. In Norway they even introduced a programme to save the Arctic fox: they began culling red foxes in order to protect the more vulnerable species.
The same is happening with birds. The more “flexible” species are displacing the Arctic ones.
— But how does that fit with their instinct to return to the same place?
— That’s the tragedy. Imprinting is the mechanism by which a bird remembers its birthplace. It seeks to return there. But if conditions for breeding no longer exist, they are forced to adapt. Many species fly back, check the conditions – has the snow melted? is there food? – and if not, they move on. But not all can afford that. Predators may have more choice, but other birds do not.

— How do birds find that very rock or cliff where they nested the year before?
— It hasn’t been fully studied. There are hypotheses: by smell, by visual landmarks, by the magnetic field. Birds have excellent eyesight. Some also have a strong sense of smell. And they really do remember the details. This is called homing – the return to a nesting site. And philopatry – the return to the place of birth.
There are albatrosses that return to the same cliff for decades. The same is true for petrels and guillemots – even gulls. It is generational memory. It is passed on. And it is astonishing.

— Which Arctic birds behave in the most unusual way?
— The sandpipers. They practise polyandry: a female mates with several males, and each male in turn incubates the eggs and raises the chicks. Guillemots too – with them it’s the father who leaps from the cliff with the chick to teach it how to swim. He then stays for a couple of months until the youngster finds its feet, while the females have already gone far away.
— Have birds managed to adapt over the past hundred years to human impact?
— They do change their routes. For example, geese that were heavily hunted now avoid areas with strong hunting pressure. They have altered their migration paths, flying different routes – and this has been documented.
— And all this against the backdrop of environmental problems…
— Of course. Plastic is found in the stomachs of almost all seabirds. Fishing nets get caught around the necks of fur seals and true seals. The loops cut into their bodies, and the animal dies slowly if no one helps. This is especially true for males, whose necks continue to grow. Females suffer too, but sometimes survive with a loop around their necks, while the males die.
When we worked with fur seals, we saw individuals with plastic collars. We ourselves caught some and freed them. But those were isolated cases – only the lucky ones spotted and caught by caring people. It’s a small part of the population, while overall it is a huge tragedy.

— You spoke about the importance of rethinking our attitude to dolphinariums.
— Yes. These expeditions, I believe, change people profoundly. Once you have seen a whale in the wild, you can no longer watch them in chlorinated water. I hope that none of our guests will ever take their children to a dolphinarium.
Orcas, belugas, dolphins – they are not performers. They suffer. Many die during capture, during transport. And even if outwardly everything looks “fine”, cases of aggression, the deaths of trainers, the immense stress of the animals – all of this happens constantly. This is not entertainment. It is a system of violence.
I believe such cruises offer a chance to change something. Perhaps not the whole world, but at least a person. And that already means a great deal.

— What would you advise someone visiting the Arctic for the first time?
— Don’t expect anyone to say: “Look to the left – there’s a whale.” Just go out on deck. Often. Watch. If the weather is clear, you’ll almost certainly see a spout, a fin, a tail. And keep your binoculars close at hand.