Wednesday May 7, 2008
For twelve days we have been drifting with one and the same ice floe. The wind took us 166,680 kilometer westwards from where we started on April 24 2008.
But yesterday it was decided to move the ship to a new location. Yesterday we cut only through thin ice., which hardly made any noise. But today, I finally feel that we are on an icebreaker. Ice floes crack and break under the ship. Cracks cut tens of meters through the ice and split it in pieces. More than half of the day we are breaking ice. Today we are closer to the coast and the ice floes here are more than a meter thick. But the Amundsen can break through more than three meters. When the ship loses speed by breaking through thick ice, it sometimes moves backward for a while, to gain more momentum.
Both yesterday and today I joined a helicopter flight with scientist John Iacozza and pilot Serge Arseneau. For the first time since we flew from Inuvik to the Amundsen, I can see the ice from a bird’s eye. I see all the details that get lost in satellite images. Small lakes, narrow channels; small ice islands in open water; ice floes that moved on top of each other. Sometimes it looks as if a gigantic crystal glass has broken into thousand pieces above the arctic waters. Beautiful geometry. Almost like abstract paintings that would fit perfectly in the Museum of Modern Art.
The Circumpolar Flaw Lead Study (CFL) started in October 2007 and will continue till august 2008. After that, the scientists will need about two years to analyze all the results, write scientific papers and summarize the CFL-results.
It’s too early yet for detailed scientific conclusions of the CFL-study. But something can be said already about the ice conditions in the Amundsen Gulf. The ice in the Amundsen Gulf is breaking up about a month earlier than usual. That’s even faster than was thought at the beginning of CFL. Over the recent years there seems to be a systematic trend towards later freezing and earlier melting. And the multiyear ice has become thinner, while it’s extent is shrinking too.
This fits into the picture of the state of the sea ice for the whole Arctic. Two days ago, on May 5 2008, the National Snow and Ice Data Center (NSIDC) announced that, to avoid beating the September 2007 record low ice extent in the Arctic, more than 50% of the first-year ice would have to survive the summer melting season. This happened only once in the last 25 years. On average only 30% of the first year ice survives the summer.
The available sea ice data point to another extreme sea ice minimum extent for September 2008.
Showing posts with label North Pole Expedition. Show all posts
Showing posts with label North Pole Expedition. Show all posts
Sunday, May 11, 2008
On the ice - Part 4
Sunday May 4, 2008
Forget about the image of the pole cap as a flat, uniform, boring ice plate. The sea ice is a sleeping, seductive and unpredictable monster. Today, we went by snow scooter a bit farther from the ship than before. We parked the snow scooter on a – at first sight – flat piece of ice.
But even here, I can see differences from meter to meter. Here, the snow is a bit thicker, there a bit thinner; here it is a bit whiter, there a bit darker; here the wind has blown small ribbles in the snow, there some bigger ones. They look like small sand dunes.
The researchers start their experiments. Jens Ehn is measuring the light reflection by the snow and the ice. A little further away, Natalie Asselin is making a hole in the ice. When that’s done, Véronique Lago lowers an instrument tied tot a sixty-meter rope into the sea water. She measures the temperature, the pressure and the salinity of the first sixty meters of the seawater below our feet.
Meanwhile, I look around. Beautiful pressure ridges are sticking out of the ice some tens of meters away. I take my camera and walk towards the ridge. The terrain gets rougher and rougher. Sometimes I sink half a meter into the snow. When I am almost there, Jens shouts that I have to come back. He is our gunman, and I don’t carry one (neither do I know how to shoot).
As soon as the experiments are finished, we drive by snow scooter to the ridge that I saw. Big, rectangular pieces of ice stick up. White at the top, more and more blue towards the bottom. Some of them stick out so far, that ice caves have formed underneath. I lie on my belly to look inside one of the ice caves. Against a fully, eye blue background, water is dropping from tens of small ice stalgtites.
The sun is shining, and it is only -8 Celsius. Master student Natalie Asselin lies down on a pressed up ice block and takes a sunbath. We try to throw snowballs, but it’s not the type of snowball snow. The snowballs fall hopelessly apart in the air.
From a distance I can see a tower made of ice cores. Master corer Benoit Philipe has built the tower two days ago. On one day he managed to make a record number of 109 ice cores. He is already coring for many days. No wonder the pole is losing ice, is the joke that soon went around. From the core pieces that he didn’t use, he built the ice tower.
I can feel at the snow and the ice that it is getting spring. De snow gets stickier, the top layer of the ice softer. I take a piece of an ice core and suck on it. Tastes salty. This is young ice. I look at it’s structure, and I see some thick droplets of brine. Droplets with a high salinity. When the seawater freezes, the salt is expelled from the ice crystals. It gets trapped in pockets between the crystals. The brine stays liquid, as a much lower temperature would be needed to freeze them.
The longer the ice stays frozen, the bigger the chance that the brine manages to escape, leaves holes in the ice behind, and lands in the seawater. There, it plays an important part in the ocean circulation. It makes the salinity of the sea water higher, making the water heavier. The heavier water sinks and can transport big amounts of water over hundreds of kilometers.
When I tell Jens that, until my preparation for the Amundsen trip, I imagined the pole cap to be a flat ice pancake, he tells: “That’s the way the ice modelers still look at it.” But OK, they have to. Modeling is simplifying. The art is to undress the sea ice in such a way that you can model it mathematically, but that the results still look like describing real sea ice.
The ice is getting spring fever. It opens up more and more. At the bottom of the sea ice the ice algae start their blooming season. In the last couple of days we have seen the first birds arriving. My Inuit room mate Roger Memorana recognizes and counts them all. A black guillemot was the first to arrive. Next were the glaucous gull and the snow bunting.
In the next months to come, more and more colorful life will arrive to the sea ice, the flaw leads and the polynyas. It’s a big pity that I have to leave in three days.
Forget about the image of the pole cap as a flat, uniform, boring ice plate. The sea ice is a sleeping, seductive and unpredictable monster. Today, we went by snow scooter a bit farther from the ship than before. We parked the snow scooter on a – at first sight – flat piece of ice.
But even here, I can see differences from meter to meter. Here, the snow is a bit thicker, there a bit thinner; here it is a bit whiter, there a bit darker; here the wind has blown small ribbles in the snow, there some bigger ones. They look like small sand dunes.
The researchers start their experiments. Jens Ehn is measuring the light reflection by the snow and the ice. A little further away, Natalie Asselin is making a hole in the ice. When that’s done, Véronique Lago lowers an instrument tied tot a sixty-meter rope into the sea water. She measures the temperature, the pressure and the salinity of the first sixty meters of the seawater below our feet.
Meanwhile, I look around. Beautiful pressure ridges are sticking out of the ice some tens of meters away. I take my camera and walk towards the ridge. The terrain gets rougher and rougher. Sometimes I sink half a meter into the snow. When I am almost there, Jens shouts that I have to come back. He is our gunman, and I don’t carry one (neither do I know how to shoot).
As soon as the experiments are finished, we drive by snow scooter to the ridge that I saw. Big, rectangular pieces of ice stick up. White at the top, more and more blue towards the bottom. Some of them stick out so far, that ice caves have formed underneath. I lie on my belly to look inside one of the ice caves. Against a fully, eye blue background, water is dropping from tens of small ice stalgtites.
The sun is shining, and it is only -8 Celsius. Master student Natalie Asselin lies down on a pressed up ice block and takes a sunbath. We try to throw snowballs, but it’s not the type of snowball snow. The snowballs fall hopelessly apart in the air.
From a distance I can see a tower made of ice cores. Master corer Benoit Philipe has built the tower two days ago. On one day he managed to make a record number of 109 ice cores. He is already coring for many days. No wonder the pole is losing ice, is the joke that soon went around. From the core pieces that he didn’t use, he built the ice tower.
I can feel at the snow and the ice that it is getting spring. De snow gets stickier, the top layer of the ice softer. I take a piece of an ice core and suck on it. Tastes salty. This is young ice. I look at it’s structure, and I see some thick droplets of brine. Droplets with a high salinity. When the seawater freezes, the salt is expelled from the ice crystals. It gets trapped in pockets between the crystals. The brine stays liquid, as a much lower temperature would be needed to freeze them.
The longer the ice stays frozen, the bigger the chance that the brine manages to escape, leaves holes in the ice behind, and lands in the seawater. There, it plays an important part in the ocean circulation. It makes the salinity of the sea water higher, making the water heavier. The heavier water sinks and can transport big amounts of water over hundreds of kilometers.
When I tell Jens that, until my preparation for the Amundsen trip, I imagined the pole cap to be a flat ice pancake, he tells: “That’s the way the ice modelers still look at it.” But OK, they have to. Modeling is simplifying. The art is to undress the sea ice in such a way that you can model it mathematically, but that the results still look like describing real sea ice.
The ice is getting spring fever. It opens up more and more. At the bottom of the sea ice the ice algae start their blooming season. In the last couple of days we have seen the first birds arriving. My Inuit room mate Roger Memorana recognizes and counts them all. A black guillemot was the first to arrive. Next were the glaucous gull and the snow bunting.
In the next months to come, more and more colorful life will arrive to the sea ice, the flaw leads and the polynyas. It’s a big pity that I have to leave in three days.
On the ice - Part 3
Thursday May 1, 2008 (Published on http://ipy-cfl.ca/page11/page34/page34.php)
The thermometer reads -8 degrees Celsius as we set foot on the ice at 09.30. The wind makes it feel like -18. Today I am wearing arctic boots for the first time. Thanks to technician Joanne Delaronde, who looked yesterday on the ice a bit worried at my mountain boots and asked whether I did not have cold feet in them. Yes, I did. She managed to find me some size-11 spare boots, which I can use the rest of my stay with the Amundsen.
Experimenting, digging or drilling at one spot on the ice means a lot of standing, little walking, and so even quicker getting cold feet. The cold was cutting in due time through my mountain shoes. And filling them with three pair of thick socks meant that there was no air layer anymore inside to fight the freezing cold. To dam the cold cutting through, arctic boots have a kind of inner sole with air pockets, which use the great insulating properties of still air.
Today we are first going to measure CO2-concentrations in the ice.
A flag in the ice points the way we are heading to by snow scooter. Three days ago technician Keith Johnson from the Department of Fisheries and Oceans – IOS put there four tubes with permeable walls into the ice, at four different depths. Now they are frozen into the ice. “We call them peepers”, Keith says. The ‘peepers’ slowly take in CO2 from the surrounding ice, until the concentration in the tubes is the same as in the ice. Three days should be enough for that slow process, he hopes.
Arriving at the spot with the flag, some small metal pipes stick into the air. Through these little pipes the gas from the tubes is analyzed. PhD-student Nicolas-Xavier Geilfus from the University of Brussels reads the CO2-concentrations and Keith writes them down.
“We know pretty well how much CO2 the oceans absorb”, Keith tells, “but the role of the sea ice in the exchange of CO2-fluxes is much less known. This is what we are trying to find out with our measurements. In the winter, when it’s really cold, the ice works as an insulating cap between the atmosphere and the seawater. Then there is no CO2-flux going through. But in the spring, when the air is getting warmer, the ice gets warmer too. Channels in the ice form, which can transport CO2 from the atmosphere to the seawater and vice versa.”
“Besides this, we also want to know what is the role of the CO2-exchange for the ecological system. In the spring, the algae start to bloom. They can absorb a lot of CO2 through the ice.”
When finished with the measurements, we leave the tubes behind us in the ice. “May be we can use them again later”, says Keith. “When the Amundsen leaves this ice floe, a transponder will be left on the floe. So, even when we leave to somewhere else, we will still be able to tell where this piece of ice is drifting. We can use the helicopter or the Amundsen to come back to do new measurements with the tubes or to take them out of the ice.”
When we are done with the CO2-measurements, we drive by snow scooter to the other side of the boat. It’s much windier over there. At the previous spot, the ship was shielding the wind from us. Still, I love to be outside, though it’s good to know that the Amundsen is always close, in case your body really would start to get cold.
PhD-student Jens Ehn from the University of Manitoba sets his albedo meter up and measures the light reflection. Sea ice with wet snow on top reflects more than seventy percent, sea ice with dry snow even more than eighty. The more ice melts, the more water, and the more light is absorbed. Which means that the ice starts to melt even more.
After two hours working on the ice, we return to the boat. Still, I do not have cold feet. A big hurrah for the arctic boots.
But even the modern, high-tech arctic boots, lose the game against the traditional Inuit shoes, or ‘kamik’, tells my Inuit-roommate Roger Memorana. I ask him how they are made. “The sole consists of three layers”, he tells. “At the bottom: moose skin, in the middle: musk ox wool and on the top: duffle. The rest of the ‘kamik’ is made out of caribou skin, musk ox skin or – if you want them to be complete waterproof – seal skin.”
“The kamik are both warmer and lighter than the shoes you were wearing today”, Roger tells me. All the other experienced arctic researchers whom I ask agree.
The thermometer reads -8 degrees Celsius as we set foot on the ice at 09.30. The wind makes it feel like -18. Today I am wearing arctic boots for the first time. Thanks to technician Joanne Delaronde, who looked yesterday on the ice a bit worried at my mountain boots and asked whether I did not have cold feet in them. Yes, I did. She managed to find me some size-11 spare boots, which I can use the rest of my stay with the Amundsen.
Experimenting, digging or drilling at one spot on the ice means a lot of standing, little walking, and so even quicker getting cold feet. The cold was cutting in due time through my mountain shoes. And filling them with three pair of thick socks meant that there was no air layer anymore inside to fight the freezing cold. To dam the cold cutting through, arctic boots have a kind of inner sole with air pockets, which use the great insulating properties of still air.
Today we are first going to measure CO2-concentrations in the ice.
A flag in the ice points the way we are heading to by snow scooter. Three days ago technician Keith Johnson from the Department of Fisheries and Oceans – IOS put there four tubes with permeable walls into the ice, at four different depths. Now they are frozen into the ice. “We call them peepers”, Keith says. The ‘peepers’ slowly take in CO2 from the surrounding ice, until the concentration in the tubes is the same as in the ice. Three days should be enough for that slow process, he hopes.
Arriving at the spot with the flag, some small metal pipes stick into the air. Through these little pipes the gas from the tubes is analyzed. PhD-student Nicolas-Xavier Geilfus from the University of Brussels reads the CO2-concentrations and Keith writes them down.
“We know pretty well how much CO2 the oceans absorb”, Keith tells, “but the role of the sea ice in the exchange of CO2-fluxes is much less known. This is what we are trying to find out with our measurements. In the winter, when it’s really cold, the ice works as an insulating cap between the atmosphere and the seawater. Then there is no CO2-flux going through. But in the spring, when the air is getting warmer, the ice gets warmer too. Channels in the ice form, which can transport CO2 from the atmosphere to the seawater and vice versa.”
“Besides this, we also want to know what is the role of the CO2-exchange for the ecological system. In the spring, the algae start to bloom. They can absorb a lot of CO2 through the ice.”
When finished with the measurements, we leave the tubes behind us in the ice. “May be we can use them again later”, says Keith. “When the Amundsen leaves this ice floe, a transponder will be left on the floe. So, even when we leave to somewhere else, we will still be able to tell where this piece of ice is drifting. We can use the helicopter or the Amundsen to come back to do new measurements with the tubes or to take them out of the ice.”
When we are done with the CO2-measurements, we drive by snow scooter to the other side of the boat. It’s much windier over there. At the previous spot, the ship was shielding the wind from us. Still, I love to be outside, though it’s good to know that the Amundsen is always close, in case your body really would start to get cold.
PhD-student Jens Ehn from the University of Manitoba sets his albedo meter up and measures the light reflection. Sea ice with wet snow on top reflects more than seventy percent, sea ice with dry snow even more than eighty. The more ice melts, the more water, and the more light is absorbed. Which means that the ice starts to melt even more.
After two hours working on the ice, we return to the boat. Still, I do not have cold feet. A big hurrah for the arctic boots.
But even the modern, high-tech arctic boots, lose the game against the traditional Inuit shoes, or ‘kamik’, tells my Inuit-roommate Roger Memorana. I ask him how they are made. “The sole consists of three layers”, he tells. “At the bottom: moose skin, in the middle: musk ox wool and on the top: duffle. The rest of the ‘kamik’ is made out of caribou skin, musk ox skin or – if you want them to be complete waterproof – seal skin.”
“The kamik are both warmer and lighter than the shoes you were wearing today”, Roger tells me. All the other experienced arctic researchers whom I ask agree.
On the ice - Part 2
Tuesday April 29, 2008 (Published on http://ipy-cfl.ca/page11/page34/page34.php)
Yesterday it was decided that the boat will leave it’s present drifting position in the ice on May 1 to sail into Prince of Wales Strait. But any planning on the Amundsen is tricky business, as the behavior of the weather and the sea ice can change plans within an hour. So it happened that yesterday’s plan has already been thrown into the dustbin. The sea ice conditions have changed dramatically in the last day. Blame the wind. It is no longer possible to safely enter Prince of Wales Strait.
We will leave one of these days, but nobody knows when and to which new home in the ice.
Up till now, every day that I have been on the Amundsen, the ice and the sky have looked differently. We have had a foggy day, a sunny day, a very windy day and today was a cloudy day with some wind, but not as much as yesterday. Dark clouds were today hanging above the open water that we can see from the ship. Actually, the sky can tell something about the state of the ice. More open water means a higher chance for cloud formation. The water, the ice, the atmosphere – they all shake hands.
In the morning I have joined John Iacozza on the ice. On a tiny white sledge he was dragging a 1.5 meters long red cylinder over the rough ice, equipped with an ice measuring instrument. By sending electromagnetic waves through the ice and measuring how much comes back, the instrument unravels the thickness of the snow covered ice. It has a built in GPS that gives the geographic position with a one-meter accuracy. The instrument is basically used to check the measurements of a similar type of equipment that John uses in the helicopter to measure ice thickness over a much larger area from the air.
I love the pressure ridges in the ice. The ones I saw today had a bluish color. Small ice mountains that easily make you stumble. I have always had the image in my mind of ice as something flat, but the pressure ridges show the enormous power of colliding ice floes. They are a miniature version of the formation of mountains in the earth’s crust by the colliding tectonic plates. Around the present position of the Amundsen, pressure ridges are up to half a meter. Dwarfs. A few days ago John saw from the helicopter pressure ridges close to Banks Island that were seven meters high.
And the ridges are very photogenic too…
Sea ice hides some funny secrets. First year ice is bluish, whereas multi year ice appears whiter. Multi year ice contains much less brine than first year ice, so it is much less salty. You can even taste the difference. If you would melt several years old sea ice, you can drink a fresh cup of arctic water, naturally cleaned from the salt. Multi year ice also contains more air pockets than first year ice. And if you look at a satellite image, you can also see the difference between one year and multi year ice. Mutli year ice looks much brighter on the image, as it scatters more electromagnetic waves back.
I don’t know whether the Amundsen has been given it’s red color for photographic purposes, but whether it’s sunny, foggy or cloudy, whether the Amundsen surrounded by snow, ice or open water, the red vessel in the background always makes a great photo shot. Just press the button.
Yesterday it was decided that the boat will leave it’s present drifting position in the ice on May 1 to sail into Prince of Wales Strait. But any planning on the Amundsen is tricky business, as the behavior of the weather and the sea ice can change plans within an hour. So it happened that yesterday’s plan has already been thrown into the dustbin. The sea ice conditions have changed dramatically in the last day. Blame the wind. It is no longer possible to safely enter Prince of Wales Strait.
We will leave one of these days, but nobody knows when and to which new home in the ice.
Up till now, every day that I have been on the Amundsen, the ice and the sky have looked differently. We have had a foggy day, a sunny day, a very windy day and today was a cloudy day with some wind, but not as much as yesterday. Dark clouds were today hanging above the open water that we can see from the ship. Actually, the sky can tell something about the state of the ice. More open water means a higher chance for cloud formation. The water, the ice, the atmosphere – they all shake hands.
In the morning I have joined John Iacozza on the ice. On a tiny white sledge he was dragging a 1.5 meters long red cylinder over the rough ice, equipped with an ice measuring instrument. By sending electromagnetic waves through the ice and measuring how much comes back, the instrument unravels the thickness of the snow covered ice. It has a built in GPS that gives the geographic position with a one-meter accuracy. The instrument is basically used to check the measurements of a similar type of equipment that John uses in the helicopter to measure ice thickness over a much larger area from the air.
I love the pressure ridges in the ice. The ones I saw today had a bluish color. Small ice mountains that easily make you stumble. I have always had the image in my mind of ice as something flat, but the pressure ridges show the enormous power of colliding ice floes. They are a miniature version of the formation of mountains in the earth’s crust by the colliding tectonic plates. Around the present position of the Amundsen, pressure ridges are up to half a meter. Dwarfs. A few days ago John saw from the helicopter pressure ridges close to Banks Island that were seven meters high.
And the ridges are very photogenic too…
Sea ice hides some funny secrets. First year ice is bluish, whereas multi year ice appears whiter. Multi year ice contains much less brine than first year ice, so it is much less salty. You can even taste the difference. If you would melt several years old sea ice, you can drink a fresh cup of arctic water, naturally cleaned from the salt. Multi year ice also contains more air pockets than first year ice. And if you look at a satellite image, you can also see the difference between one year and multi year ice. Mutli year ice looks much brighter on the image, as it scatters more electromagnetic waves back.
I don’t know whether the Amundsen has been given it’s red color for photographic purposes, but whether it’s sunny, foggy or cloudy, whether the Amundsen surrounded by snow, ice or open water, the red vessel in the background always makes a great photo shot. Just press the button.
On the ice - Part 1
Sunday April 27, 2008 (Published on http://ipy-cfl.ca/page11/page34/page34.php)
Coming from the Netherlands – a country with quite rarely snow & ice – my first three arctic days on ‘The Ice’ have been amazing.
After the first day of getting to know the people on the boat and the Amundsen itself, I have joined yesterday and today the scientific fieldwork in the morning. Finally on the ice myself.
Yesterday I have joined a group led by Benoit Philipe, drilling 1,3 meters long ice cores. Our temporary home on the ice was covered in fog, which gave the boat, seen from a distance, a mystical touch. Temperature was –15 Celsius, but there was no wind at all. Cores were taken out of the ice, cut into pieces and put into insulating bottles, to analyze them on the ship. Looking for ice algae – the brownish stuff at the bottom of the ice cores – and for tiny arctic fauna like nematodes and worms. And also for carbon monoxide and carbon dioxide, to uncover the arctic secret of carbon fluxes in and out of the ice.
Today the sun was shining in the morning, but it was –18 Celsius and there was quite some wind. Now I know what wind-chill in the arctic means. I have felt my feet the rest of the day. This time our group, led by John Yackel, was digging two snow pits of about 15 centimeter of snow that was lying on the ice. They measured at the spot some physical properties of the snow cover and took samples back to the boat to analyze some other. The thicker the snow cover, the warmer the ice. And that influences it’s physical properties.
At tonight’s scientific meeting John Iacozza reported about his ice reconnaissance helicopter flight of today. The instruments in the helicopter measure ice thickness and by flying low over the area he was also able to see the state of the ice. He noticed much open water and much new, thin ice. He said that it is very unusual to see in April already that much open water in this area.
John Yackel showed three satellite images from 23, 8 and 2 hours ago. The flaw lead in the ice, going from north to southeast, almost touching Victoria Island, is getting larger. At the southeastern tip the flaw lead is extending and curving towards the west. It seems that the wind tries to push the ice out of the Amundsen Gulf. Both the helicopter observations and the satellite images show that the ice is moving a lot. Together with many break ups, it makes the sea ice unpredictable. That’s the reason that the captain prefers to let the ship stay in the ice.
Right now, the ship is attached to the sea ice. And because the ice is always moving depending on the wind, we are also floating with about a kilometer per hour. I don’t know where.
Coming from the Netherlands – a country with quite rarely snow & ice – my first three arctic days on ‘The Ice’ have been amazing.
After the first day of getting to know the people on the boat and the Amundsen itself, I have joined yesterday and today the scientific fieldwork in the morning. Finally on the ice myself.
Yesterday I have joined a group led by Benoit Philipe, drilling 1,3 meters long ice cores. Our temporary home on the ice was covered in fog, which gave the boat, seen from a distance, a mystical touch. Temperature was –15 Celsius, but there was no wind at all. Cores were taken out of the ice, cut into pieces and put into insulating bottles, to analyze them on the ship. Looking for ice algae – the brownish stuff at the bottom of the ice cores – and for tiny arctic fauna like nematodes and worms. And also for carbon monoxide and carbon dioxide, to uncover the arctic secret of carbon fluxes in and out of the ice.
Today the sun was shining in the morning, but it was –18 Celsius and there was quite some wind. Now I know what wind-chill in the arctic means. I have felt my feet the rest of the day. This time our group, led by John Yackel, was digging two snow pits of about 15 centimeter of snow that was lying on the ice. They measured at the spot some physical properties of the snow cover and took samples back to the boat to analyze some other. The thicker the snow cover, the warmer the ice. And that influences it’s physical properties.
At tonight’s scientific meeting John Iacozza reported about his ice reconnaissance helicopter flight of today. The instruments in the helicopter measure ice thickness and by flying low over the area he was also able to see the state of the ice. He noticed much open water and much new, thin ice. He said that it is very unusual to see in April already that much open water in this area.
John Yackel showed three satellite images from 23, 8 and 2 hours ago. The flaw lead in the ice, going from north to southeast, almost touching Victoria Island, is getting larger. At the southeastern tip the flaw lead is extending and curving towards the west. It seems that the wind tries to push the ice out of the Amundsen Gulf. Both the helicopter observations and the satellite images show that the ice is moving a lot. Together with many break ups, it makes the sea ice unpredictable. That’s the reason that the captain prefers to let the ship stay in the ice.
Right now, the ship is attached to the sea ice. And because the ice is always moving depending on the wind, we are also floating with about a kilometer per hour. I don’t know where.
Monday, April 21, 2008
Noordpool-Blog
Tussen 24 april en 8 mei vaar ik mee met de Canadese onderzoeksijsbreker ‘Amundsen’ in de Amundsen Golf.
Lees mijn weblog op: http://poolblog.volkskrantblog.nl/ of op: http://benniemols.blogspot.com/search/label/De%20Volkskrant%20Poolblog
Radioverslag: http://www.teleac.nl/radio/index.jsp?nr=&item=1860399&template=article_weblog.jsp
Aanvullende info op: http://benniemols.blogspot.com/search/label/North%20Pole%20Expedition
----------------------------
From April 24 till May 8, I am on board of the Canadian Arctic Polar Research Icebreaker ‘Amundsen’.
Read my weblog in English: http://ipy-cfl.ca/page11/page11.php (Section ‘On the Ice’)
More info on:
http://benniemols.blogspot.com/search/label/North%20Pole%20Expedition
Wat gebeurt er wanneer de noordpool smelt?
Dit artikel is gepubliceerd in Trouw, 21 april 2008
In de afgelopen miljoen jaar is er geen zomer geweest waarin de noordpool ijsvrij was. Maar als de modelberekeningen kloppen, en de opwarming van de aarde zou doorzetten, kan dat binnen een paar decennia wel gebeuren. De afgelopen drie decennia is het oppervlak van het noordpoolijs structureel geslonken. Ook wordt het ijs dunner. Waar twintig jaar geleden het poolijs voor zestig procent uit ijs ouder dan twee jaar bestond (dik ijs), is dat nu nog maar dertig procent. De aanwijzingen uit klimaatmodellen zijn stevig dat het broeikaseffect er debet aan is. Maakt het wat uit dat de noordpool smelt?
Wat er niet gebeurt door een smeltende noordpool, is een zeespiegelstijging. Het noordpoolijs drijft al op zee, en net zoals een smeltend ijsblokje in een glas water het waterniveau niet laat stijgen, doet een smeltende noordpool dat niet met de zee. Maar er gebeuren wel andere dingen.
Een kleiner zeeijsoppervlak kaatst minder zonlicht terug. Het ontstane open water absorbeert veel meer dan het terugkaatst. Daardoor wordt de Arctische Oceaan warmer, waardoor het ijs nog sneller afsmelt. Verder kan de globale stroming in de Atlantische Oceaan veranderen. Een van de drijvende factoren van deze oceaancirculatie, waarvan ook de Warme Golfstroom deel uitmaakt, is de vorming van koud, zout en daardoor zwaar water in de Groenland Zee. Als het zeewater hier opwarmt, kan de oceaancirculatie afzwakken met gevolgen voor weer en klimaat. Smeltend zeeijs zal ook het ecologische systeem op de proef stellen. Algen, vissen, vogels, zeehonden, ijsberen en walvissen zijn allemaal afhankelijk van het gedrag van het zeeijs. Door de opeenvolging van ijstijden en warmere interglacialen, is het arctische ecosysteem jong en kwetsbaar.
Dan zijn er nog de oorspronkelijke bewoners van de poolstreek, de ongeveer 650.000 Inuit (of eskimo’s). Hun toch al verschraalde traditionele leefwijze zal verder worden bedreigd. Zij vertellen tegenwoordig verhalen van jagers die door het ijs zijn gezakt, omdat het dunner en minder voorspelbaar is geworden. En verhalen over dieren die in de afgelopen jaren zijn opgedoken, maar waar hun taal niet eens woorden voor heeft, omdat de beesten in warmere, zuidelijkere streken leefden. Zelfs hun voor-voor-voorouders hebben ze nooit gezien en dus ook nooit benoemd.
Wie wil, kan ook positieve gevolgen van een smeltende noordpool zien, althans op het eerste gezicht. Als het ijs zich terugtrekt, kunnen schepen een deel van het jaar van Europa via de Noord-Canadese wateren en de Bering Straat een korte route naar Azië varen (de eeuwenlang gezochte Noordwest Passage), of van Europa langs Siberië door dezelfde Beringstraat naar Azië (de Noordzeeroute). Ook olie- en gasbedrijven zien al gouden bergen. Naar schatting herbergt de noordpoolzeebodem een kwart van de onontgonnen olie- en gasreserves op aarde.
De poolreserves aan fossiele brandstoffen hebben het arctische gebied ineens van geopolitiek belang gemaakt. Canada, Rusland, de VS, Denemarken en Noorwegen claimen allemaal delen van de zeebodem onder de noordpool. Symbolisch plantte Rusland vorig jaar een vlag op de bodem van de Arctische Oceaan. Het begin van een slag om de noordpoolzeebodem?
In de afgelopen miljoen jaar is er geen zomer geweest waarin de noordpool ijsvrij was. Maar als de modelberekeningen kloppen, en de opwarming van de aarde zou doorzetten, kan dat binnen een paar decennia wel gebeuren. De afgelopen drie decennia is het oppervlak van het noordpoolijs structureel geslonken. Ook wordt het ijs dunner. Waar twintig jaar geleden het poolijs voor zestig procent uit ijs ouder dan twee jaar bestond (dik ijs), is dat nu nog maar dertig procent. De aanwijzingen uit klimaatmodellen zijn stevig dat het broeikaseffect er debet aan is. Maakt het wat uit dat de noordpool smelt?
Wat er niet gebeurt door een smeltende noordpool, is een zeespiegelstijging. Het noordpoolijs drijft al op zee, en net zoals een smeltend ijsblokje in een glas water het waterniveau niet laat stijgen, doet een smeltende noordpool dat niet met de zee. Maar er gebeuren wel andere dingen.
Een kleiner zeeijsoppervlak kaatst minder zonlicht terug. Het ontstane open water absorbeert veel meer dan het terugkaatst. Daardoor wordt de Arctische Oceaan warmer, waardoor het ijs nog sneller afsmelt. Verder kan de globale stroming in de Atlantische Oceaan veranderen. Een van de drijvende factoren van deze oceaancirculatie, waarvan ook de Warme Golfstroom deel uitmaakt, is de vorming van koud, zout en daardoor zwaar water in de Groenland Zee. Als het zeewater hier opwarmt, kan de oceaancirculatie afzwakken met gevolgen voor weer en klimaat. Smeltend zeeijs zal ook het ecologische systeem op de proef stellen. Algen, vissen, vogels, zeehonden, ijsberen en walvissen zijn allemaal afhankelijk van het gedrag van het zeeijs. Door de opeenvolging van ijstijden en warmere interglacialen, is het arctische ecosysteem jong en kwetsbaar.
Dan zijn er nog de oorspronkelijke bewoners van de poolstreek, de ongeveer 650.000 Inuit (of eskimo’s). Hun toch al verschraalde traditionele leefwijze zal verder worden bedreigd. Zij vertellen tegenwoordig verhalen van jagers die door het ijs zijn gezakt, omdat het dunner en minder voorspelbaar is geworden. En verhalen over dieren die in de afgelopen jaren zijn opgedoken, maar waar hun taal niet eens woorden voor heeft, omdat de beesten in warmere, zuidelijkere streken leefden. Zelfs hun voor-voor-voorouders hebben ze nooit gezien en dus ook nooit benoemd.
Wie wil, kan ook positieve gevolgen van een smeltende noordpool zien, althans op het eerste gezicht. Als het ijs zich terugtrekt, kunnen schepen een deel van het jaar van Europa via de Noord-Canadese wateren en de Bering Straat een korte route naar Azië varen (de eeuwenlang gezochte Noordwest Passage), of van Europa langs Siberië door dezelfde Beringstraat naar Azië (de Noordzeeroute). Ook olie- en gasbedrijven zien al gouden bergen. Naar schatting herbergt de noordpoolzeebodem een kwart van de onontgonnen olie- en gasreserves op aarde.
De poolreserves aan fossiele brandstoffen hebben het arctische gebied ineens van geopolitiek belang gemaakt. Canada, Rusland, de VS, Denemarken en Noorwegen claimen allemaal delen van de zeebodem onder de noordpool. Symbolisch plantte Rusland vorig jaar een vlag op de bodem van de Arctische Oceaan. Het begin van een slag om de noordpoolzeebodem?
Sunday, April 6, 2008
What the Inuit have to say about climate change in the Arctic
NASA-data have shown that the Arctic sea-ice area in March 2008 is roughly the same as in March 2007. Some climate skeptics have used this fact – combined with the fact that the 1998-temperature record has not yet been beaten, despite global warming – as a sign that global warming does not continue. This conclusion is far from the facts (if you look at all the facts, not just at a sub-selection of the facts, which fit your own hypothesis).
Even more important than the sea-ice area, is the sea ice volume. Twenty years ago, Arctic sea ice consisted for 60% of ice older than two years (thick ice). Now only 30%. The ice volume is declining for at least twenty years. And even from March 2007 to March 2008 the volume has been declining, despite the fact that the surface areas in these two years are pretty much the same. That means that the 2008-ice is really thinner than the one in 2007. With a little bit of Arctic summer in 2008, quite some area of the present spring-ice will quickly melt away.
It is predicted that the global 2008-temperature will be slightly smaller than the 2007-temperature, but this is due to the cooling La Nina-effect in the Pacific Ocean. When La Nina will finish its cooling effect, chances are high the 1998-temperature-record will be beaten pretty soon.
Furthermore it strikes me that many global-warming-skeptics ignore data that are not so easily expressed in numbers and statistics. The Inuit, the local inhabitants of the Arctic – and once called Eskimo’s – have a very long tradition in dealing with the ever changing sea-ice, the ever changing biological environment and the ever changing weather in this extreme part of the earth. For their survival they have always been dependent on observing very carefully what happens to the sea-ice, to the snowfall, to the wind and to the behavior of animals as polar bears, seals and birds.
Before getting to what the Inuit have to tell about the state of the Arctic, let me go back a little while in Arctic history. The tradition of ignoring Inuit-knowledge about their own environment goes back a long way. Barry Lopez writes in his book Arctic Dreams (1986): “The impersonality of statistics masks both the complexity and the ethics inherent in any wildlife situation. Biologists are anxious about the ‘tyranny of statistics’ and the ‘ascendency of the [computer] modeler,’ about industry’s desire for a ‘standardized animal’, one that always behaves in predictable ways…A belief in the authority of statistics and the dismissal of Eskimo narratives as only ‘anecdotal’ is a dichotomy one encounters frequently in arctic environmental assessment reports.”
Also often ignored is the contribution the Inuit made in Arctic exploration. In the great book on Arctic exploration Arctic Grail – The quest for the Northwest Passage and the North Pole, 1818-1909 (1988) Pierre Berton analyses why so many British Arctic explorations in the 19th century failed: “The Eskimos wore loose parkas of fur or sealskin, but the British Navy stuck to more confining wool, flannel, and broadcloth uniforms, with no protective hoods. The Eskimos kept their feet warm in sealskin mukluks; even Parry rejected Navy leather. The Eskimo sleds were light and flexible, the Navy’s heavy and cumbersome – and hauled by men, not dogs. No naval man ever learned the difficult technique of dog driving or the art of building a snow house on the trail…Most puzzling of all, and most damning, is that in an age of science Europeans were unable to understand how the Eskimos escaped the great Arctic scourge that struck almost every white expeditions to the North. The seeds of scurvy were already in Parry’s men, in spite of the lemon juice and marmalade, but no one connected the Eskimo’s diet with the state of their health. Thought the effects of vitamins were unknown, the explorers sensed that scurvy was linked to diet and that fresh meat and vegetables helped ward it off. Nobody caught on to the truth that raw meat and blubber are effective antiscorbutics.”
And also: “Without the Eskimos to care for them, hunt for them, and guide them through that chill, inhospitable realm, scores more would have died of starvation, scurvy, exhaustion, or exposure. Without the Eskimos, the journeys to seek out the Pole and the Passage would not have been possible. Yet their contribution has been noted only obliquely. It was the British Navy’s loss that it learned so little from the natives. Had it paid attention, the tragedies that followed might have been averted. Here was a nation obsessed by science, whose explorers were charged with collecting everything from skins of Arctic tern to the shells that lay on the beaches. Here were men of intelligence with a mania for figures, charts and statistics, recording everything from the water temperatures to the magnetic forces that surround the Pole. Yet few thought it necessary to inquire the reasons why another set of fellow humans could survive, year after year, winter after winter, in an environment that taxed and often broke the white man’s spirit.”
Roald Amundsen, the Norwegian explorer, learned extensively from the Inuit knowledge about how to survive in such harsh environment, one of the reasons for his success. He was the first to navigate the long sought Northwest Passage (1903-1906), and also the first to reach the South Pole, beating British Robert Scott, who stuck to traditional British methods of exploring Polar Regions.
So far about history. Let’s get back to today.
At present there are about 155.000 Inuit living in the Arctic, in Alaska, Canada, Greenland and Northeast-Russia. What do they have to say about the present-day Arctic? Shari Gearheard is a climate researcher at the National Snow and Ice Data Center (NSIDC), and studies exactly that question. For over a decade, she has worked with Inuit communities in Nunavut, Canada, on Inuit knowledge of climate and environmental change.
In February 2008 she wrote in Natural History: “The Arctic climate has always fluctuated, according to studies of ice cores that date back some 400.000 years, from which past temperature and atmospheric conditions can be deduced. But the overwhelming majority of climate scientists agree that the recent changes are almost certainly attributable to global warming. Inuit, too, recognize the Arctic’s inherent variability—which they’ve observed keenly and adapted to over the centuries—and they say that something is indeed very different today. Changes in snow and sea-ice conditions, shifts in the seasonal calendar, unusual animal behavior—all exceed the familiar range of variability, they say. As a result of their intensive use of the environment, Inuit and other Arctic residents pick up on many subtle changes and intricate connections that scientific instruments cannot detect, and that scientists are just beginning to appreciate and understand.”
“Years ago, it was often difficult to get scientists to take traditional knowledge seriously. But increasingly, climate scientists and other researchers have been incorporating indigenous knowledge and observations into their research. A notable example is the prominent role of Arctic indigenous communities in the International Polar Year of 2007 to 2008, in which thousands of scientists are engaged in more than 200 research projects in the Arctic and Antarctic. Indigenous communities are contributing to studies on biological diversity, birds, caribou and reindeer, and human health, among other topics.”
“Remote sensing via satellites provides an overview of sea-ice extent and some data on its characteristics going back to the 1970s. Inuit knowledge goes back further, to the early 1900s, and provides insight into finer-scale changes, including sea ice texture and stability, and into changes in the environmental processes that drive sea ice, such as currents, snowfall, and winds. Such work is driven by the belief that linking multiple methods, scales, and ways of knowing increases confidence in individual observations, broadens the information base, and helps explain the various changes.”
“After almost thirteen years, my work in Nunavut tells a story repeated by many communities around the North: the Arctic is changing, and changing fast, on a number of fronts. Among the most striking changes, observed by locals from Alaska to Finland, is that the weather is increasingly unpredictable. Since weather determines the day’s activities for most hunters, it is a critical part of everyday life, and closely watched. Skilled Inuit forecasters observe cloud patterns and wind conditions to predict weather through the next day.”
“The increased risk of running into bad weather has pushed Inuit hunters and travelers to change their travel habits. Some pack extra supplies, just in case. As for the traditional forecasters, many have lost confidence in their prediction skills and have stopped advising hunting parties about when and where to travel. That has wrought an emotional change for some, who miss having an advisory role in their families and communities.”
“Inuit have been observing many other environmental changes, too. During the past decade, for instance, Inuit in Nunavut have noted strengthening winds, which can pack snow much harder than usual. The hard snow can prevent people from building igloos for temporary or emergency shelter, leaving them vulnerable to that unpredictable bad weather. Some Baker Lake residents told me they blamed the extra-hard snow for the deaths of several travelers out on the land.”
“Weather and wind changes, in turn, have affected sea ice—and not just its thickness. In Nunavut, all but one of the twenty-six communities lie on the coast. Their inhabitants rely intensively on sea ice for hunting and traveling, so their understanding of it is quite complex. How does the sea ice feel when you walk on it? How does it respond to being kicked or struck with a harpoon? How does it taste at different times of the year: too salty? Not as salty as it should?”
“As with the Qaanaarmiut in Greenland, many Nunavummiut, or people from Nunavut, report that the ice is thinner in places, forms later, and breaks up earlier— observations that mirror findings from numerous scientific studies. Clyde River Inuit note that familiar cracks in the sea ice are not appearing even as new ones open in unusual locations; they say the sea ice seems to be softer, not as solid as it used to be; and they say the currents have shifted in certain areas, combining with wind changes to affect ice movements. In response, Inuit in northern Quebec and parts of Nunavut are reviving the traditional practice of dogsledding. Dog teams are more reliable than snowmobiles in the changing environment, because they can help navigate dangerous sea-ice conditions and can find their way home during storms—not to mention that they don’t run out of gas or need new spark plugs.”
One thing is to hear researchers talk about the Inuit, the other is to let them talk. In the same article by Shari Gearheard, there is an interview with an Inuit-man. He tells: “I am sixty-five years old and I have been living in Clyde River, Nunavut, almost my entire life. When I was young, we hunted by dog team for seal, fish, fox, rabbit, and sometimes caribou in the winter, and we hunted narwhal and fished for halibut in the summer. I hunt by Ski-Doo these days, and I enjoy going out on the land when it’s not too windy.”
“In the past, we would watch the dogs to learn about the wind. If it was windy and the dogs started walking around instead of lying curled in one spot, we’d know it was going to calm down. I don’t have dogs anymore, but I use ravens today. Like dogs, they try to get into a sheltered spot if it’s going to get windy. When you’re always outside, you notice little things like that. In the old days, even as children, we had to go outside first thing in the morning to look at the weather, to learn. It’s still the same for me today, even though I sometimes look through a window. But it’s more difficult to predict the weather now, especially the wind. It seems to get windy suddenly these days. And there are many other changes, too.”
“For example, the sea ice isn’t the same anymore. It seems like it’s forming only from water, meaning it’s much less salty now. You can even see through the sea ice. In the past it wasn’t clear, it was whitish. It also breaks up sooner in the spring than it used to, and the winters don’t feel as cold. Narwhals seem to come sooner than before. When the sea ice was here longer, they didn’t come as early; they would pass us by, swimming north.”
“The snow has changed, too. It used to be really white but now it seems yellowish, as if it has some fine sand or dirt on it. The sky used to be clear blue on a nice day but now it seems reddish. It’s just a guess, but I think it’s redder for the same reason the snow is yellower: there is a smoky or dirty substance in the air. That might explain why the nights seem darker, too—the snow is dirty, not as reflective of light, and the sky is hazy.”
“I know that before our time the world was very warm, even around here. When the
glaciers started to recede people found woolly mammoth tusks, so we know things were different long ago. Many years from now, it might be like those old days. Inuit used to say that one day the Arctic would melt, that things would reverse and there would be snow down south, but none up here. We see weird weather in many places on the television these days, and it is warmer here, so maybe that’s what is happening.”
“If the changes continue, I will learn to live with them. The seals and other animals that depend on the sea ice will move to the shores; the animals will adapt. I’ve heard that because they depend on sea ice, polar bears will go extinct, but I don’t believe it. They are very adaptable. As the sea ice changes, polar bears might get skinnier and some might die, but I don’t think they will go extinct. The only way to react to the changes we are seeing is to be positive. The people and animals will adapt. At the same time, it is very important to get the information out there about what is changing, so others can understand what is happening.”
Not just Shari Gearheard has written about Inuit-knowledge. Many others have.
Elizabeth Kolbert writes in the book The Arctic (2007): “An Inuit hunter named John Keogak, who lives on Banks Island, in the Inuvik Region of Canada’s Northwest Territories, told me that he and his fellow-hunters had started to notice that the climate was changing in the mid-1980’s. Then a few years ago, people on the island began to see robins, a bird for which the Inuit in this region have no word.”
And Canadian researcher Dan Leitch (CFL-project coordinator from the University of Manitoba) tells: “In Labrador, we saw 11 polar bears in one fjord. Locals tell us that even 20 years ago, polar bears were almost never seen there. They blame the lack of sea ice for pushing them on land. If you talk to any local in the North, there is no doubt that climate change is happening. They tell stories of hunters falling through the ice because it is thinner, there is less of it, and it is much more unpredictable. They also talk of animals that have shown up in recent years that local languages have no word for, because they are usually only found in warmer climate.”
All these Inuit-observations are of course very valuable. Knowledge from people that have been living for many centuries in the extreme Arctic conditions. Knowledge that can complement our modern measurements. Knowledge that tells about thinning ice, softer ice, later winter-freezing, earlier summer-melting, more unpredictable weather, unusual animal behavior and changing snow conditions.
Not just changes that fall within normal variability of the ever changing Arctic, but changes that fall outside of the normal variability. Reason enough to study, both with experiments and with models – but also with local knowledge of the Inuit – what’s exactly happening in the Arctic.
Internet
Shari Gearheard. A change in weather. http://nsidc.org/research/projects/images/Change-In-The-Weather.pdf
Even more important than the sea-ice area, is the sea ice volume. Twenty years ago, Arctic sea ice consisted for 60% of ice older than two years (thick ice). Now only 30%. The ice volume is declining for at least twenty years. And even from March 2007 to March 2008 the volume has been declining, despite the fact that the surface areas in these two years are pretty much the same. That means that the 2008-ice is really thinner than the one in 2007. With a little bit of Arctic summer in 2008, quite some area of the present spring-ice will quickly melt away.
It is predicted that the global 2008-temperature will be slightly smaller than the 2007-temperature, but this is due to the cooling La Nina-effect in the Pacific Ocean. When La Nina will finish its cooling effect, chances are high the 1998-temperature-record will be beaten pretty soon.
Furthermore it strikes me that many global-warming-skeptics ignore data that are not so easily expressed in numbers and statistics. The Inuit, the local inhabitants of the Arctic – and once called Eskimo’s – have a very long tradition in dealing with the ever changing sea-ice, the ever changing biological environment and the ever changing weather in this extreme part of the earth. For their survival they have always been dependent on observing very carefully what happens to the sea-ice, to the snowfall, to the wind and to the behavior of animals as polar bears, seals and birds.
Before getting to what the Inuit have to tell about the state of the Arctic, let me go back a little while in Arctic history. The tradition of ignoring Inuit-knowledge about their own environment goes back a long way. Barry Lopez writes in his book Arctic Dreams (1986): “The impersonality of statistics masks both the complexity and the ethics inherent in any wildlife situation. Biologists are anxious about the ‘tyranny of statistics’ and the ‘ascendency of the [computer] modeler,’ about industry’s desire for a ‘standardized animal’, one that always behaves in predictable ways…A belief in the authority of statistics and the dismissal of Eskimo narratives as only ‘anecdotal’ is a dichotomy one encounters frequently in arctic environmental assessment reports.”
Also often ignored is the contribution the Inuit made in Arctic exploration. In the great book on Arctic exploration Arctic Grail – The quest for the Northwest Passage and the North Pole, 1818-1909 (1988) Pierre Berton analyses why so many British Arctic explorations in the 19th century failed: “The Eskimos wore loose parkas of fur or sealskin, but the British Navy stuck to more confining wool, flannel, and broadcloth uniforms, with no protective hoods. The Eskimos kept their feet warm in sealskin mukluks; even Parry rejected Navy leather. The Eskimo sleds were light and flexible, the Navy’s heavy and cumbersome – and hauled by men, not dogs. No naval man ever learned the difficult technique of dog driving or the art of building a snow house on the trail…Most puzzling of all, and most damning, is that in an age of science Europeans were unable to understand how the Eskimos escaped the great Arctic scourge that struck almost every white expeditions to the North. The seeds of scurvy were already in Parry’s men, in spite of the lemon juice and marmalade, but no one connected the Eskimo’s diet with the state of their health. Thought the effects of vitamins were unknown, the explorers sensed that scurvy was linked to diet and that fresh meat and vegetables helped ward it off. Nobody caught on to the truth that raw meat and blubber are effective antiscorbutics.”
And also: “Without the Eskimos to care for them, hunt for them, and guide them through that chill, inhospitable realm, scores more would have died of starvation, scurvy, exhaustion, or exposure. Without the Eskimos, the journeys to seek out the Pole and the Passage would not have been possible. Yet their contribution has been noted only obliquely. It was the British Navy’s loss that it learned so little from the natives. Had it paid attention, the tragedies that followed might have been averted. Here was a nation obsessed by science, whose explorers were charged with collecting everything from skins of Arctic tern to the shells that lay on the beaches. Here were men of intelligence with a mania for figures, charts and statistics, recording everything from the water temperatures to the magnetic forces that surround the Pole. Yet few thought it necessary to inquire the reasons why another set of fellow humans could survive, year after year, winter after winter, in an environment that taxed and often broke the white man’s spirit.”
Roald Amundsen, the Norwegian explorer, learned extensively from the Inuit knowledge about how to survive in such harsh environment, one of the reasons for his success. He was the first to navigate the long sought Northwest Passage (1903-1906), and also the first to reach the South Pole, beating British Robert Scott, who stuck to traditional British methods of exploring Polar Regions.
So far about history. Let’s get back to today.
At present there are about 155.000 Inuit living in the Arctic, in Alaska, Canada, Greenland and Northeast-Russia. What do they have to say about the present-day Arctic? Shari Gearheard is a climate researcher at the National Snow and Ice Data Center (NSIDC), and studies exactly that question. For over a decade, she has worked with Inuit communities in Nunavut, Canada, on Inuit knowledge of climate and environmental change.
In February 2008 she wrote in Natural History: “The Arctic climate has always fluctuated, according to studies of ice cores that date back some 400.000 years, from which past temperature and atmospheric conditions can be deduced. But the overwhelming majority of climate scientists agree that the recent changes are almost certainly attributable to global warming. Inuit, too, recognize the Arctic’s inherent variability—which they’ve observed keenly and adapted to over the centuries—and they say that something is indeed very different today. Changes in snow and sea-ice conditions, shifts in the seasonal calendar, unusual animal behavior—all exceed the familiar range of variability, they say. As a result of their intensive use of the environment, Inuit and other Arctic residents pick up on many subtle changes and intricate connections that scientific instruments cannot detect, and that scientists are just beginning to appreciate and understand.”
“Years ago, it was often difficult to get scientists to take traditional knowledge seriously. But increasingly, climate scientists and other researchers have been incorporating indigenous knowledge and observations into their research. A notable example is the prominent role of Arctic indigenous communities in the International Polar Year of 2007 to 2008, in which thousands of scientists are engaged in more than 200 research projects in the Arctic and Antarctic. Indigenous communities are contributing to studies on biological diversity, birds, caribou and reindeer, and human health, among other topics.”
“Remote sensing via satellites provides an overview of sea-ice extent and some data on its characteristics going back to the 1970s. Inuit knowledge goes back further, to the early 1900s, and provides insight into finer-scale changes, including sea ice texture and stability, and into changes in the environmental processes that drive sea ice, such as currents, snowfall, and winds. Such work is driven by the belief that linking multiple methods, scales, and ways of knowing increases confidence in individual observations, broadens the information base, and helps explain the various changes.”
“After almost thirteen years, my work in Nunavut tells a story repeated by many communities around the North: the Arctic is changing, and changing fast, on a number of fronts. Among the most striking changes, observed by locals from Alaska to Finland, is that the weather is increasingly unpredictable. Since weather determines the day’s activities for most hunters, it is a critical part of everyday life, and closely watched. Skilled Inuit forecasters observe cloud patterns and wind conditions to predict weather through the next day.”
“The increased risk of running into bad weather has pushed Inuit hunters and travelers to change their travel habits. Some pack extra supplies, just in case. As for the traditional forecasters, many have lost confidence in their prediction skills and have stopped advising hunting parties about when and where to travel. That has wrought an emotional change for some, who miss having an advisory role in their families and communities.”
“Inuit have been observing many other environmental changes, too. During the past decade, for instance, Inuit in Nunavut have noted strengthening winds, which can pack snow much harder than usual. The hard snow can prevent people from building igloos for temporary or emergency shelter, leaving them vulnerable to that unpredictable bad weather. Some Baker Lake residents told me they blamed the extra-hard snow for the deaths of several travelers out on the land.”
“Weather and wind changes, in turn, have affected sea ice—and not just its thickness. In Nunavut, all but one of the twenty-six communities lie on the coast. Their inhabitants rely intensively on sea ice for hunting and traveling, so their understanding of it is quite complex. How does the sea ice feel when you walk on it? How does it respond to being kicked or struck with a harpoon? How does it taste at different times of the year: too salty? Not as salty as it should?”
“As with the Qaanaarmiut in Greenland, many Nunavummiut, or people from Nunavut, report that the ice is thinner in places, forms later, and breaks up earlier— observations that mirror findings from numerous scientific studies. Clyde River Inuit note that familiar cracks in the sea ice are not appearing even as new ones open in unusual locations; they say the sea ice seems to be softer, not as solid as it used to be; and they say the currents have shifted in certain areas, combining with wind changes to affect ice movements. In response, Inuit in northern Quebec and parts of Nunavut are reviving the traditional practice of dogsledding. Dog teams are more reliable than snowmobiles in the changing environment, because they can help navigate dangerous sea-ice conditions and can find their way home during storms—not to mention that they don’t run out of gas or need new spark plugs.”
One thing is to hear researchers talk about the Inuit, the other is to let them talk. In the same article by Shari Gearheard, there is an interview with an Inuit-man. He tells: “I am sixty-five years old and I have been living in Clyde River, Nunavut, almost my entire life. When I was young, we hunted by dog team for seal, fish, fox, rabbit, and sometimes caribou in the winter, and we hunted narwhal and fished for halibut in the summer. I hunt by Ski-Doo these days, and I enjoy going out on the land when it’s not too windy.”
“In the past, we would watch the dogs to learn about the wind. If it was windy and the dogs started walking around instead of lying curled in one spot, we’d know it was going to calm down. I don’t have dogs anymore, but I use ravens today. Like dogs, they try to get into a sheltered spot if it’s going to get windy. When you’re always outside, you notice little things like that. In the old days, even as children, we had to go outside first thing in the morning to look at the weather, to learn. It’s still the same for me today, even though I sometimes look through a window. But it’s more difficult to predict the weather now, especially the wind. It seems to get windy suddenly these days. And there are many other changes, too.”
“For example, the sea ice isn’t the same anymore. It seems like it’s forming only from water, meaning it’s much less salty now. You can even see through the sea ice. In the past it wasn’t clear, it was whitish. It also breaks up sooner in the spring than it used to, and the winters don’t feel as cold. Narwhals seem to come sooner than before. When the sea ice was here longer, they didn’t come as early; they would pass us by, swimming north.”
“The snow has changed, too. It used to be really white but now it seems yellowish, as if it has some fine sand or dirt on it. The sky used to be clear blue on a nice day but now it seems reddish. It’s just a guess, but I think it’s redder for the same reason the snow is yellower: there is a smoky or dirty substance in the air. That might explain why the nights seem darker, too—the snow is dirty, not as reflective of light, and the sky is hazy.”
“I know that before our time the world was very warm, even around here. When the
glaciers started to recede people found woolly mammoth tusks, so we know things were different long ago. Many years from now, it might be like those old days. Inuit used to say that one day the Arctic would melt, that things would reverse and there would be snow down south, but none up here. We see weird weather in many places on the television these days, and it is warmer here, so maybe that’s what is happening.”
“If the changes continue, I will learn to live with them. The seals and other animals that depend on the sea ice will move to the shores; the animals will adapt. I’ve heard that because they depend on sea ice, polar bears will go extinct, but I don’t believe it. They are very adaptable. As the sea ice changes, polar bears might get skinnier and some might die, but I don’t think they will go extinct. The only way to react to the changes we are seeing is to be positive. The people and animals will adapt. At the same time, it is very important to get the information out there about what is changing, so others can understand what is happening.”
Not just Shari Gearheard has written about Inuit-knowledge. Many others have.
Elizabeth Kolbert writes in the book The Arctic (2007): “An Inuit hunter named John Keogak, who lives on Banks Island, in the Inuvik Region of Canada’s Northwest Territories, told me that he and his fellow-hunters had started to notice that the climate was changing in the mid-1980’s. Then a few years ago, people on the island began to see robins, a bird for which the Inuit in this region have no word.”
And Canadian researcher Dan Leitch (CFL-project coordinator from the University of Manitoba) tells: “In Labrador, we saw 11 polar bears in one fjord. Locals tell us that even 20 years ago, polar bears were almost never seen there. They blame the lack of sea ice for pushing them on land. If you talk to any local in the North, there is no doubt that climate change is happening. They tell stories of hunters falling through the ice because it is thinner, there is less of it, and it is much more unpredictable. They also talk of animals that have shown up in recent years that local languages have no word for, because they are usually only found in warmer climate.”
All these Inuit-observations are of course very valuable. Knowledge from people that have been living for many centuries in the extreme Arctic conditions. Knowledge that can complement our modern measurements. Knowledge that tells about thinning ice, softer ice, later winter-freezing, earlier summer-melting, more unpredictable weather, unusual animal behavior and changing snow conditions.
Not just changes that fall within normal variability of the ever changing Arctic, but changes that fall outside of the normal variability. Reason enough to study, both with experiments and with models – but also with local knowledge of the Inuit – what’s exactly happening in the Arctic.
Internet
Shari Gearheard. A change in weather. http://nsidc.org/research/projects/images/Change-In-The-Weather.pdf
Shari Gearheard at NSIDC: http://nsidc.org/research/bios/gearheard.html
Dan Leitch in Canaries in the Arctic: http://ubyssey.bc.ca/2006/12/08/canaries-in-the-arctic/
Books
Barry Lopez. Arctic Dreams. (1986)
Pierre Berton. The Arctic Grail - The quest for the Northwest Passage and the north pole, 1818-1909. (1988)
Elizabeth Kolbert (ed.). The Arctic. (2007) [A collection of great writing about the Arctic, with stories from John Franklin, Elisha Kent Kane, Jules Verne, Fridtjof Nansen and Robert Peary)]
Dan Leitch in Canaries in the Arctic: http://ubyssey.bc.ca/2006/12/08/canaries-in-the-arctic/
Books
Barry Lopez. Arctic Dreams. (1986)
Pierre Berton. The Arctic Grail - The quest for the Northwest Passage and the north pole, 1818-1909. (1988)
Elizabeth Kolbert (ed.). The Arctic. (2007) [A collection of great writing about the Arctic, with stories from John Franklin, Elisha Kent Kane, Jules Verne, Fridtjof Nansen and Robert Peary)]
Saturday, March 8, 2008
Op dun ijs
Van de Canadian Coast Guard en de CFL-onderzoekers heb ik de bevestiging gekregen dat ik van 24 april tot 8 mei 2008 op de Amundsen-onderzoeksijsbreker welkom ben. Een vliegtuig brengt me vanuit het Noord-Canadese Inuvik naar de ijsbreker, en twee weken later weer terug.
Tijd om me te verdiepen in het onderzoek.
De Amundsen is een soort varend laboratorium, dat een deel van de beroemde Noordwestpassage bevaart. De Noordwestpassage is de eeuwenlang gezochte korte vaarroute van Noord-Europa naar Azië: onder Groenland langs; tussen vrijwel onbewoonde Canadese eilanden door; over de Beaufort Zee en ten slotte door de Bering Straat richting China en Japan. Verreweg het grootste deel van het jaar verhindert zeeijs deze vaarroute. ’s Zomers ligt er minder zeeijs dan ’s winters, maar meestal nog meer dan genoeg om de Noordwestpassage onbevaarbaar te maken. Slechts enkele keren is het gelukt van Noord-Europa via de Noordwestpassage naar Azië te varen.
De afgelopen drie decennia is het zeeijsoppervlak van de Noordpool geslonken: 8,9% per decennium in september (wanneer het zeeijsoppervlak minimaal is), en met 2,5% per decennium in maart (wanneer het zeeijsoppervlak maximaal is). Ook wordt het ijs dunner. Waar twintig jaar geleden het poolijs in februari voor zestig procent uit ijs ouder dan twee jaar bestond (dik ijs), is dat nu nog maar dertig procent.
Komt dit door het broeikaseffect of is het gewoon een natuurlijke variatie? We hebben pas drie decennia satellietmetingen. Wat er daarvoor gebeurde is minder goed bekend.
De aanwijzingen uit klimaatmodellen zijn stevig dat het broeikaseffect er debet aan is, maar ik hoor er graag meer over van de onderzoekers op de Amundsen. Het modelleren van hoe zeeijs zich gedraagt, is erg complex. Luchttemperatuur, watertemperatuur, wind, zeestromingen, de hoeveelheid sneeuw die op het ijs valt – ze spelen allemaal tegelijk een rol.
Hoofdonderzoeker op de Amundsen – en zeeijsspecialist – Dave Barber (Canada Research Chair in Arctic System Science, University of Manitoba) beschouwde zich jarenlang als een klimaatscepticus en dacht eerst dat het zeeijs gewoon door een natuurlijk toeval in oppervlakte afnam. Maar ook hij denkt dat de veranderingen te snel gaan om ze nog aan natuurlijke variaties toe te schrijven. Ik wil graag van hem horen wat zijn argumenten zijn. Volgens Barber is er geen zomer in de afgelopen miljoen jaar geweest waarin de noordpool ijsvrij was. En als de modelberekeningen kloppen, kan dat binnen een paar decennia voor het eerst wel gebeuren.
So what? Wat maakt het uit dat de Noordpool smelt?
So what? Wat maakt het uit dat de Noordpool smelt?
Het afnemende zeeijs heeft negatieve gevolgen voor het klimaat (minder lichtterugkaatsing, met een versterkte opwarming als gevolg), voor de pool-ecologie en voor de Inuïtbewoners in de poolstreken. Maar positieve gevolgen voor de scheepvaart (sneller en vaker van noord naar west) en voor de olie- en gasexploratie in het poolgebied (een kwart van de geschatte onontgonnen oliereserves op aarde). Hoewel deze positieve effecten op termijn dan weer negatieve gevolgen voor het milieu hebben…
De Amundsen doet experimenteel onderzoek op het deel van de Noordwestpassage dat ligt tussen Banks Island en het Canadese vasteland: de Amundsen Golf. Hier ontstaan breuken in het zeeijs, omdat het losliggende, centrale zeeijs heen en weer beweegt, terwijl het kust-zeeijs vastzit aan het Canadese vasteland. Die breuken ontstaan vaak in de herfst. In de winter bevriezen ze een beetje, maar het ijs blijft er dun. De breuken komen in het hele noordpoolgebied voor, en staan bekend onder de naam Circumpolar Flaw Leads. Behalve breuken komen er ook grotere open stukken in het zeeijs voor: polynya’s.
Juist deze breuken en polynya’s zijn door hun geringe ijsbedekking gevoelig voor klimaatverandering. Het hoeft maar iets warmer te worden en de breuken en polynya’s vriezen ook in de winter niet meer dicht.
De Amundsen-onderzoekers richten zich op de breuken in het ijs: de Circumpolar Flaw Lead Study (CFL). De vraag is hoe het zeeijs verandert, en wat de gevolgen zijn voor het fysische en biologische systeem: van de bodem van de oceaan tot de top van de atmosfeer, van virussen tot ijsberen. Het is voor het eerst dat zo’n ijsbreuk een heel jaar lang wordt bestudeerd.
Internet
About sea ice: http://nsidc.org/sotc/sea_ice.html
About the CFL-study: http://ipy-cfl.ca/index.html
Internet
About sea ice: http://nsidc.org/sotc/sea_ice.html
About the CFL-study: http://ipy-cfl.ca/index.html
Photos of the Arctic and the Amundsen: http://www.arcticnet-ulaval.ca/index.php?fa=PhotoGallery.home
Books about the Arctic and Arctic exploration
United Nations Environment Programme. Global outlook for ice and snow. (2007)
Barry Lopez. Arctic Dreams. (1986)
Pierre Berton. The Arctic Grail - The quest for the Northwest Passage and the north pole, 1818-1909. (1988)
Elizabeth Kolbert (ed.). The Arctic. (2007) [A collection of great writing about the Arctic, with stories from John Franklin, Elisha Kent Kane, Jules Verne, Fridtjof Nansen and Robert Peary)]
Saturday, February 9, 2008
Essay Amundsen Competition
I have won a two-week trip on board of the Canadian Arctic Polar Research Icebreaker ‘Amundsen’, from April 24 – May 8, 2008. It was a competition organised by the World Federation of Science Journalists, for which you had to write a short essay and send your CV.
Here is the short essay that I wrote:
I must have been around ten years when I received a second hand version of Scott’s last voyage – Through the Antarctic camera of Herbert Ponting: the thrilling but tragic story of Antarctic explorer Robert Scott, who lost the race to reach the South Pole first against his rival Amundsen. By reading this book, and looking at the wonderful old pictures of Antarctica, my passion to discover the world around me – both by science and by traveling – was born. This passion has always driven me ever since. It has driven me into science and later into science journalism, and it has driven me into traveling around the world and learning about this wonderful but fragile planet.
Thinking about a week on board an arctic research icebreaker, being able to see both the sublime beauty of the arctic and the tragic results of global warming, is for me an ultimate dream. A dream that brings back my earliest memories that combine science with traveling. A dream that gives me finally the opportunity to write from inside some popular scientific stories about research in the arctic. It is my conviction and experience that it is crucial for a science journalist not to do your work just from behind the comfortable writing desk, but to actually go to the places where the research is being done, and talk at the spot to the scientists and not just by telephone.
I have written stories about global warming, I have written stories about the Artic and the Antarctic, I have talked to researchers who experienced the arctic conditions, but I have never been in these extreme areas. I finally would like to see, hear, feel and smell myself what a wonderful place the arctic is, and what a tragedy it would be if there would be no arctic ice left in the summer months, due to global warming. The Arctic wouldn’t be the Arctic anymore.
The book about Scott’s last voyage ends with the words “To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield”, words that are written on the cross that commemorates the place where Scott died. These words, for me, have always been the motto that should inspire both the traveler, the scientist and the science journalist. With that motto in mind I would love to board the Amundsen icebreaker and report about the arctic research.
Internetinfo:
About the essay contest that was organized last year, in the context of the International Polar Year 2007/2008:
http://www.wfsj.org/news/news.php?id=88
About the winners:
http://www.wfsj.org/resources/page.php?id=62
(Clicking on the names you get the short essays)
About the ship:
http://www.amundsen.quebec-ocean.ulaval.ca/amundsenenglish.htm
About the scientific research:
http://ipy-cfl.ca/index.html
Here is the short essay that I wrote:
I must have been around ten years when I received a second hand version of Scott’s last voyage – Through the Antarctic camera of Herbert Ponting: the thrilling but tragic story of Antarctic explorer Robert Scott, who lost the race to reach the South Pole first against his rival Amundsen. By reading this book, and looking at the wonderful old pictures of Antarctica, my passion to discover the world around me – both by science and by traveling – was born. This passion has always driven me ever since. It has driven me into science and later into science journalism, and it has driven me into traveling around the world and learning about this wonderful but fragile planet.
Thinking about a week on board an arctic research icebreaker, being able to see both the sublime beauty of the arctic and the tragic results of global warming, is for me an ultimate dream. A dream that brings back my earliest memories that combine science with traveling. A dream that gives me finally the opportunity to write from inside some popular scientific stories about research in the arctic. It is my conviction and experience that it is crucial for a science journalist not to do your work just from behind the comfortable writing desk, but to actually go to the places where the research is being done, and talk at the spot to the scientists and not just by telephone.
I have written stories about global warming, I have written stories about the Artic and the Antarctic, I have talked to researchers who experienced the arctic conditions, but I have never been in these extreme areas. I finally would like to see, hear, feel and smell myself what a wonderful place the arctic is, and what a tragedy it would be if there would be no arctic ice left in the summer months, due to global warming. The Arctic wouldn’t be the Arctic anymore.
The book about Scott’s last voyage ends with the words “To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield”, words that are written on the cross that commemorates the place where Scott died. These words, for me, have always been the motto that should inspire both the traveler, the scientist and the science journalist. With that motto in mind I would love to board the Amundsen icebreaker and report about the arctic research.
Internetinfo:
About the essay contest that was organized last year, in the context of the International Polar Year 2007/2008:
http://www.wfsj.org/news/news.php?id=88
About the winners:
http://www.wfsj.org/resources/page.php?id=62
(Clicking on the names you get the short essays)
About the ship:
http://www.amundsen.quebec-ocean.ulaval.ca/amundsenenglish.htm
About the scientific research:
http://ipy-cfl.ca/index.html
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