Every so often, the moon slides between the Earth and the sun, and somewhere on the planet a small group of devoted travelers has already booked their flights. Stephen Bedingfield of Yellowknife is one of them — a man who has spent more than two decades following darkness across continents, drawn by what he calls the greatest spectacle the solar system can offer. This week he stands in Spain for his 13th total eclipse, while Canadians at home are invited to look up safely and witness, in partial form, the same ancient alignment of worlds.
Yellowknife eclipse chaser pursues 23rd solar eclipse in Spain
The magnificence of it would describe a total solar eclipse.
Mark
Why does someone travel the world chasing something that lasts only two minutes?
Mimi
Because those two minutes contain something you cannot see any other way. It is not about duration. It is about alignment—a moment when the mechanics of the solar system become visible to the naked eye.
Mark
He has seen thirteen total eclipses. Does it get routine?
Mimi
No. He describes each one as if it were the first. And he has built a community around it—other people who understand why you would spend money and time to stand in the right place at the right moment.
Mark
What changes in those two minutes, besides the light?
Mimi
Everything. Temperature drops sharply. Animals behave differently. The world goes strange in a way that lasts only as long as the eclipse itself. Then it snaps back.
Mark
Why is the safety warning so important here?
Mimi
Because during a partial eclipse, people feel safe enough to look. They think it is not as dangerous as a total eclipse. But the sun does not change. The danger is constant. The eclipse just makes people careless.
Mark
What does Bedingfield get from the travel itself?
Mimi
He gets a kind of living diary. Each eclipse takes him somewhere new, and he experiences the culture and the people there. The eclipse is the anchor, but the journey is the real story.
Mark
If you could only see one eclipse in your lifetime, would it be worth it?
Mimi
Ask Bedingfield. He watched one broadcast in 2003 and decided to spend the rest of his life chasing them. That is your answer.
The Pulse
- A Yellowknife man boards a plane to Spain chasing two minutes of totality — his 13th total solar eclipse and 23rd overall — driven by a wonder that has never diminished across more than two decades of pursuit.
- The path of totality cuts through Greenland, Iceland, Spain, and northern Russia, leaving Canada with only a partial eclipse and millions of viewers who must settle for a crescent sun rather than the full spectacle.
- Eclipse chasers warn that the partial view still carries real danger — not because the sun grows more harmful, but because the drama of the moment tempts people to stare directly without protection.
- Astronomers urge Canadians to use certified eclipse glasses or homemade pinhole projectors, noting that even tree leaves with natural holes can cast safe crescent images on the ground.
- For Bedingfield and the global tribe of chasers who reunite at each event, the eclipse is as much about community and cultural travel as it is about the sky — a living diary written across the world's landscapes.
Every so often, the moon slides between the Earth and the sun, and somewhere on the planet a small group of devoted travelers has already booked their flights. Stephen Bedingfield of Yellowknife is one of them — a man who has spent more than two decades following darkness across continents, drawn by what he calls the greatest spectacle the solar system can offer. This week he stands in Spain for his 13th total eclipse, while Canadians at home are invited to look up safely and witness, in partial form, the same ancient alignment of worlds.
Stephen Bedingfield was watching a television broadcast of a total solar eclipse over Antarctica in 2003 when something inside him quietly rearranged itself. He made a decision that night, and he has been keeping it ever since. This week, he and his wife flew to Spain to witness his 13th total solar eclipse — his 23rd if you count the partial ones gathered along the way.
The eclipse itself will last roughly two minutes. That is all the time the moon requires to slide in front of the sun and extinguish the light. Bedingfield reaches for comparisons when he tries to explain it: imagine the Great Barrier Reef, Niagara Falls, and Mount Everest all occupying the same moment. He is not speaking loosely. He has seen thirteen of them and knows the weight of the thing.
The path of totality on Wednesday runs through Greenland, Iceland, Spain, and northern Russia. Canada falls outside it. Yellowknife will see 28 percent coverage at 10:42 a.m., Whitehorse 23 percent at 9:27 a.m., and Iqaluit the best of the three at 61 percent coverage by early afternoon. A partial eclipse — incomplete, but still a genuine encounter with the solar system's mechanics.
What keeps Bedingfield returning is not only the visual drama. It is the alignment itself — sun, moon, and Earth moving into a configuration that briefly makes the invisible architecture of the solar system visible. Over the years, the chasing has also built him a community: a loose global tribe of people who keep showing up at the same coordinates, who have become friends through shared pursuit and shared wonder.
For Canadians watching from home, safety is the first concern. Christa Van Laerhoven of the Yukon Astronomical Society reminds viewers that the sun is no more dangerous during an eclipse than on any other day — but that partial eclipses are precisely when people are most tempted to look without protection. Approved eclipse glasses or a simple pinhole projector made from a box, foil, and paper will do the job. Even the natural holes in tree leaves can cast small crescent images on the ground. The risk is not the sun changing. The risk is people forgetting to be careful when the sky does something extraordinary.
Stephen Bedingfield sat in his living room in Yellowknife one evening in 2003, watching a broadcast of a total solar eclipse sweeping across Antarctica. Something shifted in him that night. He decided then that he would chase every eclipse he could find.
This week, he and his wife boarded a plane to Spain. They are there to witness what will be his 13th total solar eclipse—his 23rd when you count the partial ones he has seen along the way. The spectacle, when it arrives on Wednesday, will last roughly two minutes. That is all the time the moon will need to slide in front of the sun and steal the light.
Bedingfield struggles to find words adequate to the thing itself. "Imagine if you could see the Great Barrier Reef, Niagara Falls, Mount Everest all in one place at one moment in time," he said. "The magnificence of it would describe a total solar eclipse. There's nothing like it." He is not exaggerating for effect. He has seen thirteen of them. He knows what he is talking about.
On Wednesday, the path of totality will cut across Greenland, Iceland, Spain, and northern Russia, with a sliver visible in Portugal as well. Canada will not see the full eclipse. Instead, people across the country will have the chance to watch the moon take a bite out of the sun—a partial eclipse, incomplete but still worth the effort to see safely. In Yellowknife, the peak will come at 10:42 a.m., with the moon covering 28 percent of the sun. Whitehorse will see 23 percent at 9:27 a.m. Iqaluit will get the best view of the three Canadian cities, with 61 percent coverage at 1:24 p.m.
What draws Bedingfield back, again and again, is not just the eclipse itself. It is the alignment of forces—sun, moon, Earth—that makes the thing possible at all. "This is not just a terrestrial wonder," he said. "This is a solar system wonder and you see where the workings of the sun and the moon and the Earth are in perfect alignment to create this spectacle." Over the years, chasing eclipses has also given him something else: a community. There is now a tribe of eclipse chasers, people who show up at eclipse after eclipse, who have become friends through the shared pursuit. "It becomes a diary where you get to travel to different places in the world and you get to experience those cultures and people," he said.
The physical experience of totality changes everything around you in minutes. Temperatures drop by 15 degrees Celsius in just 15 minutes. Birds become confused and change their behavior. The world goes strange. "It's just a total environmental experience," Bedingfield said. "It's such a spectacular sight."
For those watching from Canada, safety matters. Christa Van Laerhoven, vice president of the Yukon Astronomical Society, urges people to use proper protection—approved solar eclipse glasses, or a homemade pinhole projector made from a box, foil, and paper. Even the leaves of a tree, if they have holes in them, can work as a natural projector. What you will see, Van Laerhoven said, is something like Pac-Man: a bright crescent of the sun with a bite taken out of it. There is a widespread misconception that the sun becomes more dangerous during an eclipse. It does not. The sun is always dangerous to look at directly. But during a partial eclipse, people are far more tempted to ignore the warnings and stare straight at it. That is when the real risk arrives.
Notable Quotes
Imagine if you could see the Great Barrier Reef, Niagara Falls, Mount Everest all in one place at one moment in time. The magnificence of it would describe a total solar eclipse.— Stephen Bedingfield, eclipse chaser
It becomes a diary where you get to travel to different places in the world and you get to experience those cultures and people.— Stephen Bedingfield, on the community of eclipse chasers
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