A phantom island is a non-existent landmass that appears on ancient maps often as the result of rumours and fictionalised accounts. Born of false sightings and exaggerated tales, these illusory shores were mapped where no land actually existed. Early cartographers charted these lands as if they were real. Myths about the Far North have persisted for centuries. When the Dutch cartographer Willem Barentsz set sail on his first of three voyages in search of the Northeast Passage in the summer of 1594, he relied on incomplete charts that included phantom islands. At this time it was also still widely believed that weather conditions improved the further north one travelled. Instead, Barentsz’ expedition reached Novaya Zemlya before being stopped by impassable ice conditions. The mythology surrounding Barentsz’ eventual discovery of Svalbard in 1596 and his subsequent death on Novaya Zemlya in 1597 later inspired the imagination of 19th century painters including Christiaan Julius Lodewyck Portman, Eugène Lepoittevin and François-Auguste Biard. Our expectations of the contemporary Far North are in part an inheritance of these colonial-era idealisations. Today, our shifting perception of the Arctic mirrors the pace at which the sea ice retreats. As the ice caps vanish at an unprecedented rate, the definition of the Arctic grows increasingly unstable. Once perceived as a remote frontier, since the 20th century the Arctic has become increasingly militarised. When Barentsz first etched the coastline of Novaya Zemlya onto his map of the world in 1594, he could never have imagined that its landscape would be used centuries later as a testing ground for the largest nuclear bomb ever detonated. As regional state powers continue to vie for control over the Arctic, the ecological fragility of the Arctic reflects the proliferating instability of polar geopolitics. Not only do the histories of our contemporary moment bring into question our idealisations of the Arctic, the ecological anxieties and political suspicions of our age present a challenge to traditional romanticisations of the Far North. So long as the Arctic remains a horizon shaped by our fears and desires, the phenomenon of the phantom island—as a place whose existence remains open-ended and uncertain—provides a compelling metaphor with which to demythologise and reimagine our contemporary perception of the northern landscape. In my ongoing photography series Phantom Island I seek to interrogate the mirage of the Far North. I aim to uncover new interpretations and gift new meanings that remain grounded in the urgencies of the present. By critically reflecting on the evolving histories of the Arctic and sub-Arctic regions, we can break new paths to move beyond the myths and misconceptions that have long shaped the understanding of the region.