Chasing the Northern Lights

With winter approaching I usually think about where I could escape to somewhere warm, but this year was different. In mid-October I decided to set off 400 kilometres beyond the Arctic Circle and try to photograph the northern lights. Right off the bat I have to admit that I hadn't read up on this phenomenon at all, and my notions of it were pretty distorted and naive.

I set out to observe them in the Norwegian city of Tromsø. Getting there is no problem, because with the Norwegian low-cost carrier Norwegian you can fly from Prague to Oslo and then on up north to Tromsø. That's 4 hours of flying in total, and you can grab a ticket for around 4,500 CZK. But to be honest I have to say you need to prepare for higher expenses, because Norway is a very expensive country for us. Basically everything works out at about 2.5 to 3 times more than back home.

After arriving in Tromsø I rented a car and headed to the apartment with a beautiful view of the surrounding mountains that I'd booked in advance through Airbnb. It was about -5 degrees Celsius and there was 20 centimetres of fresh snow on the ground. It was the beginning of December, and here beyond the Arctic Circle the polar night reigned. In practice that meant the sun no longer rose above the horizon at all, but from about 10 a.m. to 2 p.m. it was fairly light (the kind of dusk we get here immediately after sunset).

On my phone I had the Aurora app ready, which was supposed to show me when the lights would be visible, in which locations and with what intensity. But it was overcast and snowing outside, so there was no point getting my hopes up. Even so I set out into the night, because, being a novice with no idea of the conditions, I thought the sky might tear open somewhere and I'd see a bit of the northern lights. The only thing I saw at one in the morning was heaps of snow and slippery roads. But the outing wasn't a total waste, because I discovered a beautifully snow-blanketed white wooden church, which in that night's snowfall really was a photogenic subject.

The next day the conditions for watching the lights weren't improving much. Both because of the forecast low intensity of the lights and because of the heavy cloud cover. During those four hours of dusk I drove around the fjords near Tromsø and photographed the incredibly fascinating landscape, which is beautiful at every turn. But I'll write about that in a separate article. I also found a fjord where I dreamed of photographing the lights. They would have looked wonderful above the bay and among the cliffs. Over time I was becoming an accomplished meteorologist, and my phone and computer filled up with apps for tracking the weather, forecasting the northern lights and numerical models of cloud movement. I was also starting to understand that seeing the northern lights really wasn't going to be all that easy.

As luck and coincidence would have it, the best weather forecast was for the last night of my stay. The night before, I'd already managed to catch a small glimpse of the lights when the clouds briefly parted around 10:30 p.m. But it was at a very low intensity and the lights were already moving off westward from Norway. Since I was at least starting to have a rough idea of how everything around the northern lights works and unfolds, I didn't want to leave the last night to chance.

I fired up all the programs and numerical models and set about planning. About 150 km from Tromsø it looked as though around 5 p.m. there should be roughly 90 minutes of clear sky. Then clouds should roll in, followed by another clearing of about 60 minutes, from 11 p.m. to midnight, in the Tromsø area. So in the morning I set off and, on the ice-covered roads, made my way close to the town of Koppangen. Along the way I of course photographed and photographed, because the surrounding landscape was amazing. As a result, the journey took me almost the entire day. After about an hour and a half of waiting in the car, it was already those 5 p.m. when this spot was supposed to be clear, but the sky was still covered with clouds. By that time the app was already showing the intensity of the northern lights building.

So I climbed out of the car, walked a few metres to escape the lights along the road and took my first shot at a 30-second exposure. Even though there were still plenty of clouds in the sky, the green tinge made it clear that the anticipated show was already playing out above the cloud cover. I photographed and photographed and watched as the clouds slowly moved off and the lights finally appeared. They were more apparent on the camera (thanks to the long exposures) than to my naked eye. I perceived greenish patches and a blue-green hue in some places. At times the lights were more distinct and then gradually faded.

Time moved on and the cloud cover grew. So I set off back towards Tromsø, stopping every so often to photograph the current state of things. But the weather just wouldn't grant me a decent view. I passed the great viewpoint I'd scouted out since the afternoon and drove on. As I neared the city, and thus its heavy light pollution where there usually isn't much to be seen, it began to clear up. Terrified by the thought that I'd spend the one ideal moment of the last night driving through the city, I put my foot down to get north of Tromsø as quickly as possible, where I also knew of several spots ideal for photography.

I won't lie to you. I saw the greatest intensity of the lights just outside the city, by a busy road. I quickly pulled over, jumped out of the car and enjoyed about 5 minutes of a magnificent spectacle. Flames of the northern lights, which really do resemble a slow fire more than anything else, leapt up from the horizon high above my head. I quickly took about 5 photographs - and that was it. The lights slowly faded. So I drove on a few kilometres to the fjord where I'd wished to photograph the lights from the very beginning and waited for another strong burst, when a solar eruption forces its way through the Earth's geomagnetic field. I did witness several beautiful flares, but none of them was as strong as the one by the road. For another couple of hours I drove around the area, photographing and photographing. Then the intensity of the lights dropped and it began to cloud over heavily. I drove off thrilled by the great experience, and knowing that I'd at least managed to capture a few photographs.

Tip 1: Install the Aurora app on your phone; it'll tell you when and where you can watch the lights. You'll also find the Ventusky app handy, which offers numerical weather models and worked quite well for me.

Tip 2: Ideally you'd plan your trip for the northern lights according to an accurate forecast. Next time I'd rather spend more money on last-minute tickets so I set off only once I have the greatest possible certainty of clear weather and strong lights.

Tip 3: Definitely rent a car or pay for a northern lights tour in Tromsø. On one of those they'll drive you out somewhere in an organised little group to observe them. Per person you'll pay 3,000-5,000 CZK depending on the agency and the size of the group.

Gear: A good tripod, a fast wide-angle lens and a remote shutter release are essential. A full-frame camera with low noise is also ideal. I shot with a Sony A7R II and a Nikon 18-35mm f3.5-5.6 lens. With this combination I usually exposed for 30 seconds (because at 18mm that's the maximum time at which the stars aren't yet blurred by the Earth's rotation) and ISO 1600 or ISO 3200. At the greatest intensity of the lights I experienced, the light was so strong that 5 to 10 seconds at ISO 1600 was enough.