What It’s Like Sailing Norway With a Cruise Line That Guarantees You’ll See the Northern Lights

On a clear mid-March evening, my first night aboard Havila Polaris on a five-day sailing along northern Norway’s western coastline, the northern lights illuminated the sky in a dramatic display of green, pink, and purple as dozens of awed passengers watched from the top deck.

But I was not one of them, thanks to a bad stretch of seasickness. Fortunately, by the next morning, both the sea and my nausea had subsided. And my desire to see the northern lights for myself—the first time—only intensified when a fellow passenger showed me his photos from the previous evening. I said a silent prayer to the Norse gods for another aurora appearance before my disembarkation in Trondheim.

Until then, there was plenty else to look forward to during my trip with Havila Voyages, a relative newcomer on the Norwegian cruise scene, including tasty, locally sourced food, a relaxing vibe aboard, and well-curated excursions showcasing the region’s rich maritime history and mythological legends.

The northern lights promise

Havila Voyages ships don’t just serve as vessels for vacationers. They also carry cargo, mail, and sometimes local passengers who use the ships as ferries along what’s traditionally known as the Coastal Route (or Kystruten in Norwegian). The government-subsidized shipping route connects 34 ports, including tiny outposts and larger cities, between Kirkenes, in the far north, and Bergen, some 2,500 nautical miles southwest. Both Havila Voyages and Hurtigruten ships travel along the 130-year-old route.

My four-night southbound journey stopped at 27 ports; the company offers a variety of longer and shorter trips. (Prices vary significantly depending on the season, length of trip, and cabin; one-night voyages start at around $185, while round-trip 11-night routes start at around $1,500 in the spring.)

Photo by Martin Giskegjerde

A bonus for travelers who opt for the full round-trip voyage is Havila Voyages’ Northern Lights Promise: If the phenomenon does not occur on sailings between October 1 through March 31, passengers can redeem a complimentary six-night cruise, with cabin and meals included.

The policy has been in place since the company’s maiden voyage in 2021, and to date, only four round-trip sailings have experienced no northern lights, according to Havila Voyages spokesperson Lasse Vangstein. The company has received “about 75 requests for a redemption because of this, and these are of course approved,” he said.

An eco-forward approach

Since launching, Havila Voyages has set the bar high for sustainability. Its current fleet spans four nearly identical plug-in hybrid ships, each with capacity for 640 passengers and equipped with an 86-ton battery; the company says these batteries are among the largest on any passenger vessel. This innovative technology enables the ships to use both hybrid propulsion (from batteries and with liquified natural gas, or LNG) and battery-only power for up to four hours, which means minimal noise and no emissions in Norway’s fragile natural environment.

In fact, when Havila Capella sailed into Norway’s Geirangerfjord in 2022, it marked the first cruise ship to do so emissions-free—at that time, four years ahead of the Norwegian government’s ban of fossil fuels in the UNESCO World Heritage–protected fjords. (The government has since postponed the ban from 2026 until 2032.) Ships are also designed to operate on future zero-emission fuels, like hydrogen, and by 2028 the company is aiming to be carbon neutral using liquefied biogas (LBG), Lasse said. By 2030 or 2031, the goal is to eliminate emissions entirely.

Such efforts are a huge point of pride among employees. Hotel manager Anders Reinertsen, who oversees operations of staterooms and public areas, told me he was astonished to be able to hear kayakers paddling while sailing through Geirangerfjord because the ship is so quiet.

Courtesy of Havila Voyages

Equally impressive from a sustainability standpoint is the company’s waste-reducing culinary program—a refreshing contrast to the overflowing buffets (and staggering amounts of uneaten food) that have defined some segments of the cruise industry. Instead of buffets, passengers choose from small-plates menus showcasing locally sourced ingredients, with the goal to keep food waste to no more than 75 grams (2.65 ounces) per passenger per day. The company says this initiative saves up to 60 tons of food waste annually compared to buffet-style dining. (At breakfast, a buffet of cold items like fruit, yogurts, and pastries accompanies hot items ordered from the menu.)

Dishes at Havrand, the casual restaurant where I ate most meals, were overall quite tasty. Selections changed every third day, and I never ate the same meal twice; fish options like Norwegian cod (skrei), a local speciality, were standouts (though there were a few misses, like the hummus and pumpkin “quiche”). Passengers can also pay extra for a multi-course meal at Hildring, the more upscale restaurant. As a fancy finale for my last dinner aboard, I shared a seafood-centric, six-course tasting menu with my buddy, Mark, a fellow solo traveler whose northern lights photos I’d envied. My favorite dish: a local scallop, beautifully served in its own shell, with horseradish vinaigrette.

Deep dives into Norwegian culture

I opted for an excursion every day, and all were well organized and informative, with good guides (though a bus tour of Hammerfest was somewhat disappointing; it was cut short because we were behind schedule). The morning I embarked in Kirkenes, I joined the excellent excursion to the Russian border. Our guide was full of information about border history and personal anecdotes about what life is like six miles from Russia—a great place for outdoorsy families, he said, although he reminded us, repeatedly, not to touch any border fences, lest anyone face a lofty fine.

Photo by Blane Bachelor

During an evening walk near Solvaer, in the Lofoten Islands, I gained a deeper appreciation for generations of hardy Norwegians who made a living from farming and fishing. With dusk settling in, we tramped through deep snow as our guide explained the significance of the color scheme of coastal dwellings: white houses traditionally signaled wealth, since white paint had to be purchased, while the cheaper deep red of many traditional fishermen cabins was made from cod liver oil at home. Many cabins now serve as off-the-grid vacation retreats. But in eras past, they offered respite during the grueling winter fishing season. In the traditional cabin our group crowded into, 16 fishermen shared four beds in a two-level space not much larger than a hotel suite.

I also loved learning more about the legends that are so deeply rooted in Norwegian culture. Near Brønnøysund, which marks the midpoint of Norway’s coastline, we hiked past a natural landmark that has captivated Norwegians and visitors for centuries: Torghatten, an 846-foot granite dome with a massive hole in the middle that’s also the source of a famous troll legend. The gist of the tale: The mountain is a troll’s hat that was pierced by an arrow following a grand chase; when the sun rose, all the trolls involved in the spectacle and those watching it—plus the punctured hat—turned to stone forever, forming Torghatten and the striking array of other peaks in the region.

“This area is famous for legends,” our guide, Jill Eirunn Rodal, told me as we walked along a gravel trail past the iconic formation. “If you look around in nature, and have a little fantasy, you can see the shape of a troll: eyes, nose, and the tails.”

Photo by Blane Bachelor

Mercurial weather, fantastic views

After that first rough day, the rest of my time aboard Polaris was relaxing and restorative. The top deck salon, with floor-to-ceiling windows, was a popular spot, and most days, guests sank into chairs to read, knit, or sip coffee; I even saw one woman doing a watercolor painting. There were several shutterbugs aboard, too, and watching them snap countless photos with their long lenses as we glided through magnificent fjords, I kicked myself for not bringing my own good camera.

I spent plenty of time roaming around outside, soaking up the spectacular coastline views despite weather that was often as temperamental as a moody teenager, shifting from blue skies to fierce snowstorm and back again in a matter of minutes. Soon, there was so much snow and ice on deck that you could have practically cross-country skied the length of the ship. Bad weather prevented us from sailing into the Geirangerfjord and the Trollfjord, but, miraculously, it cleared beautifully as we glided south through the Arctic Circle.

On day three, skies stayed clear enough that I began to get my hopes up for an aurora appearance that evening. I ventured outside around 9 p.m., one of just a handful of people on deck. One passed me on the way inside with a warning: “Not much activity tonight.” But I kept my gaze skyward and held my phone up, since I’d heard the phenomenon can be more visible through a phone screen. Nothing. Two more guests went back inside.

Still not ready to give up, I headed to the very front of the ship, searching for any hint of light in the inky darkness. Then, to my astonishment, two slender blue-white streaks appeared, faintly at first, then slightly brighter, like a pair of angel wings peeking through some wondrous celestial realm. I somehow managed to capture a photo right before they vanished, swallowed up by the cold Norwegian night.