It’s Wednesday, the sun is shinning again and the mountain scenery of Greenland gets better by the hour. Last night we even had a showing of the Northern Lights courtesy of a relatively clear night. Though we are now focusing on aspects of art, filming and writing – it’s a positive hive of activity aboard the Noorderlicht – we did also get some exciting science. This was the sort that could have kept us on Greenland a bit longer than planned – the sea freezing. We passed into Turner Fjord, a passage between a mountainous island and the mainland more than a fjord really, to look in awe at the glacial terrain elegantly explained by Carol as we went. Part way through the sea took on a slightly slushy consistency, a precursor to the sea freezing.

When a freshwater pond freezes, because the temperature of maximum density (4 deg C) is above the freezing point (zero deg C), a thin layer of very cold stable water sits at the surface as the pond cools towards zero and it freezes slowly from the top down. We have all seen that thin layer of ice that slowly builds up on a pond, lake or even puddle. It causes little problem for vessels in it’s early stages.

When the sea freezes, because the temperature of maximum density (-2.8 deg C) is below the freezing point (-1.9 deg C) for average salinity levels, convection in the water keeps going until the entire water column is close to freezing. This means that when the sea freezes it does so very quickly (hours) and this is why ships can get iced in at sea with little warning.

As we passed into the slush Gert decided to do a quick (15 minute) circle of the area. On the first pass it was slush. By the second it was 2-3 inch ice which was developing very quickly and the ship strained to pull out. One more circle and we would have been there for the winter! We moved on out of Turner Fjord rapidly and realised why, according to the “pilot”, that no one had visited it in the past 70 years. From here on we will be checking the sea temperatures before dropping anchor for the night!

In answer to Tom’s query about Arctic monkeys – the only type of monkey we find up in this part of the World is us – lol. As for Polar Bear pictures? We’ve yet to see the elusive creature but will do our best. With more cameras on board than at an international fashion show trust me, it will become the most photographed bear on the planet.

To an oceanographer the past eight days has just been – well – work. High seas, cold and wet, but lots of good science – and another step towards beginning to understand the vast marine environment. But to the many assembled artists and film makers the nirvana of our voyage was the increasingly mythical land of Greenland. It became clear why Greenland – which must be the size of Britain, France, Spain and probably a few smaller EU countries for god measure – has a population of 50,000 people; they were the only ones who could get to it. Finding a gap in the fields of sea ice and errant ice bergs was more frustrating than finding a parking space the Saturday before Christmas. This was a close analogy as for some bizarre reason Monday lunchtime felt like Christmas Day – I’m not sure if it was the snow billowing around the deck outside, the strangely promising grey light that always seems to accompany the festivities, or the warm smell of cooking – promising and comforting. If some uncle or group of nieces were to walk through the door laden with presents, expectant of sweet sherry or gifts in return, we’d have raised a glass rather than suprise. White Christmas played in the background (really!) and only the Queen’s Speech was missing.

However this was the first of October and while stores around the world will soon be preparing for their Christmas sales, even my mother won’t have put the sprouts on yet – not at least for another 3 weeks. The Christmas idiom was soon shattered – the winds picked up and the reality that Greenland – 20 miles to our west – may as well have been that free parking space in front of Harrods. By late afternoon the St. Nicholas euphoria transformed to a battle against Neptune. Any attempt to control the Noorderlicht was hindered by ropes and pulleys now embedded in blocks of ice, nice in that Christmas Gin, not good in the Greenland Sea. Within 2 hours the ship was heeling at 30 degrees (no sails up) as force 8 winds blew her sideways. At least the sea water breaking over the booms thawed the ropes – but I could think of better ways. As darkness fell the waters became more sinister and the ice around us ever more menacing.

In spite of all this spirits rose, whether through a combined battle on our environment or just admission that Greenland really was mythical and we might soon be heading to Iceland instead is hard to tell. Liam quite literally broke the ice by appearing like some Austin Power’s character – resplendent in his olive green thermals and ski goggles (nothing else) – ready to take on Neptune. I guess as Neptune was picking himself up from rolling around the floor of the sea bed Liam could have pulled off a David and Goliath task . or maybe not. We worked our way through every children’s tune and musical known, with Vicky providing the tune (angelic voice) and Marcus the words (encyclopaedic memory!). At 0200 I went on watch and by this stage Gert was getting marginally p***ed off with the ice sheets (his words). We had been hove too for 8 hours holding against the wind and ice. With a flick of the throttle and a furrowing of his brows he turned the ship and headed – coastward. The small sheets of ice we’d carefully avoided for the past 3 days became like bowling pins – falling before us as we ploughed our path – with those on watch hoping it was only the paint of Noorderlicht that was suffering. As I finally crawled to my bunk at 0500 I went in the knowledge that when I woke we would either have found Greenland, or discovered that the earth was indeed flat and we had slipped off it.

In my deep sleep I didn’t really care – warm at last in my three layers of sexy nightwear and my duvet tight around (warm I hasten to add is a relative thing up here). I certainly didn’t care when David bounced in at 0800 declaring that we had discovered Greenland at last. Nor at 0805 when Dallas bounced out of his top bunk and shook me to tell me Greenland had been discovered. Nor at 0810 when Ko rang the ships bell and declared Greenland for the Dutch. Nor at 0815 when Amy bounced into the cabin declaring it for America. Greenland just wasn’t getting the message – if it could play hard to get, then so could I. The final crunch came at 0825 as the insistent tone of Dallas’s alarm beckoned me – just 6 inches out of reach of my cocoon. Sorry Dallas, but my hiking boot was the only thing close to hand to extend my reach. I was now awake and finally gave into the inevitable.

As I clambered to the deck, I was met by flat seas and a crowd of excited people cameras glued to faces. Before us was Greenland – though who ever named it thus was either deluded or seriously colour blind – white mountains towering out of the sea, with proper village sized iceburgs framing the scene. Marcus suggested he’d like to get close enough to lick an iceburg, and the vision of a Marcus – tongue stuck to the floating giant lolly as the ship drifted away – made me giggle. And more – not only had we at long last found the hidden island of Greenland – there was also a strange white orb in the sky, which itself had turned blue to contrast the mountains. The science team would need to investigate that – but that can wait until after breakfast. Tomorrow? Atlantis has always proven elusive. might need Guido’s help on that one.
Simon 1000 2nd October 2007

This flow starts life off Florida as the Gulf Stream, becomes the Atlantic Drift as it passes by Britain and then the Norwegian Coastal Current heading north past Norway. In its final form, as the West Spitsbergen Current, it brings warm saline water from the central Atlantic to the high Arctic. This water is cooled by the Arctic climate and sinks just North of Spitsbergen (Svalbard) to contribute to the deep return flow of the Atlantic. The West Spitsbergen current is a sort of sub surface (about 20-80m in depth) “river” in the ocean that moves about 12 million cubic metres of water every second – in plain terms that is the same as 10,000 river Thames’ flowing north. The warm water also transports 70 trillion watts of heat into the high Arctic – that’s the power output of about 100,000 nuclear power stations.

Currents of the North East Atlantic Ocean (McCartney et al, 1996).

This year, news that the ice cover in the Arctic is the lowest on record is balanced with the fact that our route for the next few days, usually ice free in September, is blocked by pack ice. We couldn’t tell from the satellite pictures before we left if this was new ice forming or old sea ice dragged down by the stronger than usual northerly winds. If the former, then that might be a worrying indication of the weakening of the West Spitsbergen Current. We have now sampled through the current and compared it with data collected on the second Cape Farewell voyage in September 2003. The result? The flow where we are is as warm as it was 4 years ago – with temperatures reaching the same high of just under 7 degrees C compared to the cooler 3 degrees C of the Arctic water in the region. Good news for our current – still very bad news for the diminishing polar ice cover.

What next? We are now heading further west to study the return flows from the Arctic (East Greenland Current). This means sending our probes down to at least 200m – manually! We need Henry and Tom to help on the muscle power on this one, as we will have to drop and lift the equivalent of 4km of cable over the next 2 days. We will also be deploying the ARGO float later in the week – but more of that later. Meanwhile we need to keep the rest of the crew happy for another few days – they are our winches.

Simon – with help on numbers and pic from Emily.

Dr Simon Boxall
Oceanographer (UK)
Simon is a lecturer in Oceanography at the National Oceanography Centre, Southampton. He has monitored ocean environments worldwide in force 11 gales and in the compete calm, from the air, space and underwater, tracking and monitoring pollution and environmental impact.

‘The sad thing is that everyone assumes that cutting back on our CO2 emissions will necessarily be painful and expensive! For the average person in the street using less power, having better insulated homes, and more economical transport, will save them money and saves our environment and lifestyle. It’s a win/win situation.”
Dr Simon Boxall

www.noc.soton.ac.uk