CR
Cryospheric Sciences

Cryospheric Sciences

Image of the Week: Under the Sea

Image of the Week: Under the Sea

Always wondered how it looks like under the sea ice?
Getting an answer is simpler than you might think: Just go out to the front of McMurdo ice shelf in Antarctica and drill a tube into the sea ice. Then let people climb down and take pictures of the ice from below.
More information:
– Photo taken by Marcus Arnold, Gateway Antarctica, University of Canterbury during his November 2015, Antarctic Expedition.
– More photos of their expedition on https://instagram.com/the_ross_ice_shelf_programme/

Image of the Week — What’s up with the sea-ice leads?

Image of the Week — What’s up with the sea-ice leads?

This illustration shows two Synthetic Aperture Radar (SAR) images taken over sea ice in the Arctic Ocean. Both images are polarimetric and the different colours reflect the different polarimetric channels of the SAR (red = VV, green = HV and blue = HH).

The two images are from the two satellites “ALOS-2” and “RADARSAT-2”. These are equipped with radars that operate at wavelengths around 24 cm and 6 cm, respectively. As can be seen, certain types of sea ice appear very different due to this difference in radar wavelength. In particular, leads in the ice, that is, open or refrozen cracks, appear very red for the longer wavelength, but dark for the shorter wavelength. A full understanding of what causes these differences is still not complete, but could help monitor ice properties, such as thickness and salinity, with satellites. These properties are in turn crucial for climate scientists.

 

Click on the image to see difference between the two images. (Credit: J. Grahn)

Further information see : Grahn et al. 2015, Proceedings of “ESA PollinSAR 2015”

 

Credits:

– Processing: Jakob Grahn, Earth Observation Laboratory, University of Tromsø
– Includes material ©JAXA 2015, Included ©JAXA 2015, © PASCO, ©RESTEC
– RADARSAT-2 Data and Products © MacDonald, Dettwiler and Associated Ltd., 2015 – All rights reserved. Radarsat-2 data is provided by Norwegian Space Centre/Kongsberg Satellite Services under the Norwegian-Canadian Radarsat agreement 2015.

Sunshine, ice cores, buckets and ALE: Antarctic Fieldwork

Sunshine, ice cores, buckets and ALE: Antarctic Fieldwork

My Antarctic adventure started from Punta Arenas at the bottom of Chile, opposite Tierra del Fuego, on New Years Eve 2014 after a long journey from Heathrow via São Paulo and Santiago.

Punta Arenas

Punta Arenas is even quieter than usual on New Year's Day. (Credit: M. Millman)

Punta Arenas is even quieter than usual on New Year’s Day. (Credit: M. Millman)

Punta Arenas is where Shackleton organised the rescue of his men from Elephant Island after his voyage to South Georgia in the James Caird. It is also where I met my PhD supervisors Chris Fogwill and Chris Turney for the first time, along with ancient-DNA expert Alan Cooper. Punta is the base for Antarctic Logistics & Expeditions (ALE), who are part funding my PhD and supporting me and my supervisors in the field.

Off to Antarctica…

Arriving at Union Glacier on the Ilyushin. (Credit: H. Millman)

Arriving at Union Glacier on the Ilyushin. (Credit: H. Millman)

After a couple of days in Punta Arenas, when the weather was right, we boarded an Ilyushin and flew the 4.5 hours to ALE’s base at Union Glacier in the Ellsworth Mountains. The Ilyushin is a big, rough-and-ready Russian transport plane equipped with an emergency rope instead of inflatable slides. We sat in the front half of the cabin and the back was packed with fuel and supplies for the base.

Union Glacier is a hub for an assortment of mountaineers, explorers, tourists and scientists. By Antarctic standards the base is very luxurious, with toilet blocks and even showers. Our bags were taken from the Ilyushin and were waiting for us outside our clamshell tent: “Scott”. All the tents are named after polar explorers and they have proper camp beds and solid floors inside. With regular Ilyushin flights, there is plenty of fresh food and the chefs cook fabulous breakfasts, lunches and suppers. The mix of people coming and going means that there are plenty of interesting stories to hear at mealtimes.

Union Glacier base. (Credit: H. Millman)

Union Glacier base. (Credit: H. Millman)

There was an American military man who had parachuted out of an Ilyushin to the North Pole, a cancer survivor who was trekking to the pole to raise millions of pounds for Cancer Research and lots of people who had climbed six of the seven summits and were in Antarctica to climb Mt Vinson, the last of the seven.

The fieldwork

Map showing the Patriot Hills and Union Glacier. It took about 20 minutes for the Twin Otter to reach the Patriot Hills from Union Glacier base. (Credit: H. Millman)

Map showing the Patriot Hills and Union Glacier. It took about 20 minutes for the Twin Otter to reach the Patriot Hills from Union Glacier base. (Credit: H. Millman)

Good weather meant that we couldn’t enjoy Union Glacier for long and soon the Twin Otter was loaded with all our equipment and the four of us were flown out to our field site: the Patriot Hills in the Horseshoe Valley.

The deep blue colour of the ice is visible looking down the core hole. (Credit: H. Millman)

The deep blue colour of the ice is visible looking down the core hole. (Credit: H. Millman)

The Horseshoe Valley is at the end of the Heritage Range, close to the grounding line in the Weddell Sea. Katabatic winds blowing down the side of the Patriot Hills have caused a blue ice area to form. The chance to sample the old ice, which comes to the surface in these areas, is what brought us to Antarctica. Over the next few weeks we drilled a snow/firn core, and ice cores in the blue ice area. Surface samples were collected by Professor Chris Turney, crawling 1.6 km on his knees as though trying to appease the God of the Glacier, with a cordless drill from a DIY store.

Once we get back to the lab, the samples will be analysed for trace gases, isotopes, tephra and ancient DNA. From this data we are hoping to extract a climate record reaching back to the Last Interglacial (~135 – 116 ka). I will then use this record, along with other proxy records and GCM outputs, to drive the PISM-PIK ice sheet model. This will help to answer the main question of my PhD, which is: What was the Antarctic contribution to sea level rise during the Last Interglacial? Global average temperatures during the Last Interglacial were 1-2°C warmer than pre-industrial times. As we move into a similar climate today, the past can be used as a process analogue for what might happen in the coming decades.

Drilling using a Kovacs corer. Here I'm wearing 3 coats: a light down jacket, a soft windproof shell, and my big down jacket on the top. I'm also wearing down trousers over my salopettes. It's quite windy on the blue ice, so it can feel very cold. (Credit: H. Millman)

Drilling using a Kovacs corer. Here I’m wearing 3 coats: a light down jacket, a soft windproof shell, and my big down jacket on the top. I’m also wearing down trousers over my salopettes. It’s quite windy on the blue ice, so it can feel very cold. (Credit: H. Millman)

A digression on “everyday” life in Antarctica…

Our small camp in the Horseshoe Valley. (Credit: H. Millman)

Our small camp in the Horseshoe Valley. (Credit: H. Millman)

We set up our camp a little way away from the blue ice to avoid the worst of the katabatic winds. Camp consisted of a big mess tent and 3 sleeping tents. Fogwill and me had our own tents, but Turney and Cooper had to share. Turney and Cooper were struck down with colds and we took extra care to disinfect or quarantine anything the infected had touched because having a cold in Antarctica is a thoroughly miserable experience. Fortunately, we had lots of hot, hearty meals because ALE had sent us off with excellent frozen meals cooked by their chefs. We had curries, lasagna, stews, bread rolls and cake, and we only had to eat de-hy for lunch. The only food I missed was raw carrots.

Women - Pee here! (Credit: H. Millman)

Women – Pee here! (Credit: H. Millman)

For obvious reasons, snow for drinking water was collected up-glacier of the camp, and the latrine was located down-glacier. We took it in turns to collect and melt snow for drinking water. Our toilet tent had about 3 or 4 different incarnations as storms buried our previous efforts. By the end, we found the best design was dug down about 1 m, with snow blocks and fuel barrels around it supporting a wooden board and a sheet of tarpaulin. This stopped snow getting in during a storm, but the tarpaulin could also be wrapped around your neck so that one’s body could appreciate the warmth rising up from the latrine, while keeping one’s nose out in the fresh air. All waste is collected in containers so that it can be flown out to Chile on the next Ilyushin- all human waste has to be removed from Antarctica. Since the men have the advantage of being able to wee straight into the pee barrel, ALE kindly supplied me with my very own wee bucket, which I was extremely grateful for, particularly after an unpleasant incident with a SheWee at 3am, during a storm.

The good weather meant that we were able to work most days. We had a couple of stormy days which allowed us to rest, read, listen to music, tidy down the camp, and recharge our batteries (literally). Electrical things aren’t at their happiest in the Antarctic cold. My iPod wiped itself in the last week and we had to hug our laptops inside our jackets to keep them warm enough to hold some charge.

…back to reality

Once we’d collected all of our samples, it was time to leave the Patriot Hills and return to Union Glacier. We started packing things away while we were waiting for the Iridium call from the base, not knowing whether the Twin Otter would arrive that afternoon or tomorrow or the day after, or the day after that. We got the call and the Twin Otter was already on its way. A mad rush followed as we had to quickly but carefully dig out all of our tents from weeks’ worth of icy snow and pack them away. The plane landed less than 30 minutes later with the ALE guides who were going to take our skidoos back. With their help, we soon had everything loaded onto the plane, with just enough room for the four of us to squeeze in like sardines.

Quickly packing up our camp because the Twin Otter has just arrived to take us back to Union Glacier base. (Credit: H. Millman)

Quickly packing up our camp because the Twin Otter has just arrived to take us back to Union Glacier base. (Credit: H. Millman)

Returning to the civilisation of Union Glacier was very exciting, especially seeing other people for the first time. I’m usually quite a shy and quiet person, but all reserve vanished in my first hours back on the base as I enthusiastically bounded up to strangers and asked to hear their life stories. The first wash was also fantastic. My hair had been a solid greasy mass of nastiness for weeks and having it back to its fluffy state was a joy. While we waited for a weather window so that the Ilyushin could come and collect us, we sub-sampled our snow/firm core, mended our tents and organised which equipment would be staying in Antarctica and what we’d be taking back. While we were doing this, ALE were starting to pack away Union Glacier base for the winter.

We flew back to Punta on the penultimate Ilyushin of the season, so most of the other passengers were the staff. Everyone was sad to leave, but looking forward to seeing family and friends at home after months away. On returning from Antarctica, even the quiet town of Punta was an assault on the senses. The only smells in Antarctica are cooking, skidoo fumes and the latrine, so when we arrived back the smell of soil and vegetation seemed really strong. It took a few days to readjust to cars, dark nights, proper beds, baths, flushing toilets, running water, central heating, mobile signal, internet, televisions and unlimited electricity. Leaving civilisation was easier than returning to it.

Ice cores waiting for check-in at Punta Arenas airport. We wouldn't see them again until we landed in Sydney. (Credit: H. Millman)

Ice cores waiting for check-in at Punta Arenas airport. We wouldn’t see them again until we landed in Sydney. (Credit: H. Millman)

Our ice cores were stored in a refrigerated lorry back until our flight to Sydney via Santiago and Auckland. Although the cores were in special insulated boxes, the long flight with connections to the heat of a Sydney summer was very stressful. The previous season a box had been left behind at Auckland airport, resulting in a very expensive puddle. This year we were lucky and all boxes arrived at the other end and the unscathed cores were transferred to the freezers at UNSW. Now the hard work begins!

Chris Turney at the end of the 1.6 km transect. (Credit: H. Millman)

Chris Turney at the end of the 1.6 km transect. (Credit: H. Millman)

More information:

Project website: http://ellsworthmountains.com/index.html

Short videos from the field can be viewed on Chris Turney’s Vine page:
https://vine.co/u/1021019438360739840

Edited by Sophie Berger and Nanna Karlsson


About Helen Millman: 
After completing a BSc in Geography at Swansea University and a Glaciology MSc at Aberystwyth University, Helen moved from her native Devon in south-west England to Australia to start her PhD at the University of New South Wales in Sydney. Her research focuses on modelling Antarctic ice sheet dynamics during the Last Interglacial using data from ice cores, as well as outputs from the CSIRO Mk3L GCM to drive the Potsdam Parallel Ice Sheet Model (PISM-PIK). She is supervised by Chris Fogwill and Chris Turney at UNSW, Steven Phipps at the University of Tasmania and Nick Golledge at Victoria University in Wellington. You can follow Helen on Twitter @helenmillman (https://twitter.com/helenmillman).

Image of the Week: Greenland Glacier Seen from a Drone

Image of the Week: Greenland Glacier Seen from a Drone

The use of drones or Unmanned Aerial Vehicles (UAVs) is one of the most exciting development in glaciology in recent years. The picture was taken during fieldwork conducted in the summer of 2014 by Johnny Ryan and colleague Nick Toberg. The aim was to survey Store Glacier once a day using a fixed-wing UAV, that was equipped with a digital camera, which took photos every two seconds during its dangerous 40 km sortie over the glacier.

The project was a joint project between Aberystwyth University and the University of Cambridge, and the data provided insights into the process of calving and the interplay between the glacier and sea-ice mélange that forms during the winter and breaks up in late spring.

Read Johnny’s exciting blog post about the whole field season here.

Results from the study has been published in the The Cryosphere earlier this year.

Image of the Week : 63 years of the Muir Glacier’s retreat

Image of the Week : 63 years of the Muir Glacier’s retreat

The Muir is a valley glacier (Alaska) that has significantly retreated over the last 2 centuries. The 3 pictures have the same field of view and record the changes that occurred during the 63 years separating 1941 and 2004.

In the 1941, the terminus of the glacier is on the lower right corner of the photo. The Muir is then a tidewater glacier up to 700m thick and is well connected to its tributary, the Riggs Glacier (upper right part of the photo).

9 years later, in 1950, the Muir Glacier has retreated by more than 3 km, is more than 100m thinner but is still connected to Riggs Glacier.

By 2004, the Muir glacier has retreated further inland and its terminus is no longer visible on the picture. The Riggs glacier is now disconnected to the Muir and has retreated by 0.25km. Vegetation has invaded the place.

Credits:

The photo comes from and the text is inspired from the section “Repeat photography of the Alaskan Glaciers” on U.S. Geological Survey website.
Photo 1: W. O. Field, # 41-64, courtesy of the National Snow and Ice Data Center and Glacier Bay National Park and Preserve Archive.
Photo 2 : W. O. Field, # F50-R29, courtesy of the Glacier Bay National Park and Preserve Archive.
Photo 3: B. F. Molnia, USGS Photograph

Filling the Gap between Science and Politics

Have you ever wondered how results from scientific studies make their way into policy and influence government decisions? Read about the experiences of Sammie Buzzard, University of Reading, who spent her summer working for a government body in Westminster, London, UK.

This summer I had the opportunity to take some time away from my usual Ph.D. work and spend 3 months working for the Government Office for Science in London, or ‘GO Science’ as it is known. My placement was made possible by a scheme set up by the UK research councils that allows PhD researchers to spend some time in a policy organisation. Through this, researchers can gain an insight into how science fits into policy and pick up new skills in areas such as communication and managing multiple tasks. In return, the policy organisations get some insight into how academics think and some of the cutting edge science that is currently going on.

View from my window: Westminster Abbey. Credit: S. Buzzard.

View from my window: Westminster Abbey. Credit: S. Buzzard.

What is the Government Office for Science?

Based in Westminster in the heart of London’s political centre, GO Science exists to ensure that the UK Government’s policies and decisions are informed by the best scientific evidence. It is headed up by Sir Mark Walport, the Government Chief Scientific Adviser, whose role is to advise the Prime Minister and Cabinet. GO Science works to ensure and improve the quality and use of scientific evidence and advice in government. They also provide scientific advice in the case of emergencies, through the Scientific Advisory Group for Emergencies (SAGE). This includes international emergencies, such as advising the government on their response to the ebola crisis for example.

Becoming a specialist whether you want to or not…

One thing that really surprised me about GO Science was the number of people with a scientific background who work there. There were many people with PhDs and several who had done post-doctoral positions before joining the GO Science. This combination of scientific thinkers and those who had come from many different backgrounds, including career civil servants, means that there are a great range of skills available. If you find that you are not so good at something or are nervous about writing a briefing, there will always be someone who will be willing to go through it with you. It also means that with the number of contacts that the office have, both in academia and industry, expert advice can be found on virtually any area.

It also means though that if you have a scientific specialism then you have to be prepared to be asked all about it. The Chief Scientific Adviser had recently been in Svalbard and this led to me being asked a whole range of questions from whether or not he has to have an armed guard when in the Arctic to the state of the sea ice. The fact I do mainly care (at least for now) about the South Pole did not matter!

Sammie Buzzard in her more usual surroundings as a sea ice scientist. Credit: S. Buzzard.

Sammie Buzzard in her more usual surroundings as a glaciologist. Credit: S. Buzzard.

Fortunately, I was also given the opportunity to present my own work on the surface melt lakes on the Larsen C Ice Shelf to my colleagues. For me, this was a hugely valuable opportunity to communicate my research to a mixed audience and get some unexpected questions from the fresh viewpoints that those from outside of glaciology can provide.

… a specialist in many subjects!

One of the main differences I found from my normal day job as a PhD researcher was the variety of topics and responsibilities. My work covered subjects as diverse as finance, biological materials and technologies of the future. I had the chance to experience several different areas of work, from writing briefing notes for the chief scientist, to helping check facts for a presentation on energy that he was giving to the public. It was very different to PhD life in that I would often have several pieces of work ongoing in completely different areas and often for different people, so it involved a lot more juggling of tasks than my average day buried in Matlab code.

Although it was a challenge to have to learn so much about subjects I knew very little about very quickly but one which I enjoyed and a useful skill that I will take away with me. I particularly enjoyed the chance to work for the Council for Science and Technology, a group of hugely influential people who provide high level advice to the Prime Minister. The group consists of university vice chancellors, business leaders and the heads of learned societies and seeing the ways in which they work and make decisions was fascinating.

An additional thing that I found very different to academia was the level of accountability for my work. If my PhD work goes wrong then ultimately it is my responsibility but at GO Science often more than one person would check a piece I wrote before it was passed on or sent out. This did make me feel much more confident in my work knowing I was not going to put anything completely ridiculous in front of chief scientific adviser, but I did begin to miss being able to choose and have responsibility for the direction of my own work in the way that I have with my PhD.

What is next?

I would highly recommend opportunities like this for other PhD students, or scientists at any stage in their career. Knowing where the work that we do ultimately is going and what policy makers care about is incredibly useful. Researchers can also work in Parliament and non-government organisations such as the British Library and the Royal Society. The scheme has recently recruited for next year’s interns and applications normally open each summer for the next year’s intake.

Although I plan to continue in research after I finish my PhD the skills I gained from my time out will definitely be useful far beyond writing up, which I now really must get back to…

Edited by Nanna Karlsson


Sammie Buzzard is a PhD student in the department of Meteorology at the University of Reading. After completing a Master’s degree in mathematics she is now researching surface melt on the Larsen C Ice Shelf. She blogs about polar science, life as a PhD student and cake (because cake is essential for research) at Ice and Icing and can be found tweeting at @treacherousbuzz.

Image of Week: Inside the Greenland Ice Sheet

Image of Week: Inside the Greenland Ice Sheet

The image shows a cross section of the Greenland Ice Sheet, where a recent study by MacGregor et al. have mapped the layers imaged by radar. Thanks to ice core measurements the age of the layers have been determined, and in the image the layers from the Holocene period (the past 11.700 years) are shown in green. The ice formed during the last ice age, that spanned 11.700 to 115.000 years ago are coloured blue, and finally, the ice from the last interglacial, the Eemian period, more than 115.000 years ago, are red. The grey areas show parts where the age is unknown.

For more details see:
MacGregor et al., 2015, Journal of Geophysical Research
NASA Goddard

For more beautiful visualisations of the data:
NASA’s Scientific Visualization Studio

Image of the Week: Under a Glacier

Image of the Week: Under a Glacier

What is happening under a glacier? This is a difficult questions to answer as accessing the glacier bed is usually not that easy. Here, we are getting a rare glimpse of the different processes and materials that are often found at the ice-bed interface. The photograph shows both sediments and hard rock, clear ice and dirty ice, and of course flowing water. No wonder these processes are complicated to say the least!

The photo was taken by Ilkka Matero (University of Leeds, U.K) during the excursion to Hochjochferner at the Karthaus summer school. See also the Image of the Week post from 18th of September to get an outside view of the side of the glacier.

Image of the Week: Antarctic ice-shelf thickness

Image of the Week: Antarctic ice-shelf thickness

Thickness of floating ice shelves in Antarctica. Ice thickness is greatest close to the grounding line where it can reach 1000 meters or more (red). Away from the grounding line, the ice rapidly thins to reach a few hundreds of meters at the calving front. Ice thickness varies greatly from one ice shelf to another. Within ice shelves, “streams of ice” can be spotted originating from individual tributary glaciers and ice streams.

This dataset was used to compute calving fluxes and basal melt rates of Antarctic ice shelves (see Depoorter et al, 2013). This ice thickness map was derived from altimetry data (ERS and ICESat) acquired between 1994 and 2009 and corrected for elevation changes during this period.

Follow this link to download the georeferenced map and see Depoorter et al (2013)‘s paper for more information.

Riding the Storm: The Arctic Circle Traverse 2015

Riding the Storm: The Arctic Circle Traverse 2015

In the morning on the 19th of May, we – the Arctic Circle Traverse 2015 – found ourselves in a great dilemma; to stay or to go? On our check-in conversation with the KISS crew, we were informed that an east front from Kulusuk was expected to hit our location up on the ice sheet sometime in the afternoon. The relatively low winds that we were experiencing would get stronger, and the visibility would reduce even more. The past couple of days at Saddle, we had experienced nothing but strong winds and snow drift. First, it had been a warm front from the west. The next day we were hit by a cold front from southeast. The orientation of our camp did not matter anymore; everything was snowed in. Having completed all our tasks at Saddle, our second-to-last location, we were ready to traverse to Dye-2, our final stop. We had a few more tasks to complete there, before we return to Kangerlussuaq and after a total of three weeks traversing the ice sheet.

Evening hours after our arrival at Saddle on the 16th of May. Credit: Babis Charalampidis.

Evening hours after our arrival at Saddle on the 16th of May. Credit: Babis Charalampidis.

The advantages of traversing that day were plenty: We would reach our final destination, while keep being ahead of schedule. Setting camp next to the airway at Dye-2 meant that even if that forecasted east front was to last for days, we would be able once it passes to complete our work, and get off of the ice sheet with the first flight out. Shane and I were also planning to drill one extra firn core about 30 kilometers northeast from Dye-2, and the sooner we reached the old radar station, the better the odds for performing the drilling. Also, Achim’s commercial flight back to Europe was booked for the 26th of May, and missing that was not an option. The disadvantages? Just one really: There was a front coming.

After weighing all the above, we decided to take advantage of this small window of opportunity, and attempt the 100 kilometer traverse. Considering the northeast heading until Dye-2, we would have the frontal activity on our backs. Perhaps we would even arrive there before the storm. We finished with our breakfast and started packing the camp for our last traverse. After about three hours of intense shoveling, disassembling and packing everything on the sleds, we were ready to go.

It was early afternoon when our thumbs hit the throttles of our ski-doos. Everybody made sure to be dressed up warmly. Our outfits had to be as airtight as possible, allowing only a few holes to breathe from. Max was leading our convoy into the fog, with visibility being about 50 meters of field overview. We decided to keep close to one another, with our speed regulated to 25 kilometers per hour. It would take us about 4.5 hours until Dye-2, including two 15-minute stops. Having the wind on our backs made the journey comfortable, enjoyable even. On our first stop for a snack, 30 kilometers in, the enthusiasm was apparent on everyone’s face. So far, so good.

Traversing from EKT (FirnCover project) to NASA-SE (GC-Net) on the 10th of May. Credit: Babis Charalampidis.

Traversing from EKT (FirnCover project) to NASA-SE (GC-Net) on the 10th of May. Credit: Babis Charalampidis.

Continuing the traverse, I was still riding on the back seat of the “Euro-Ski-Doo”. Achim was always the one to begin a traverse and I would take over halfway through. It was not more than five kilometers since our first stop when I felt a huge wind gust from my right side. And then another. And another. Soon enough, it was just a constant force on my side that I had to struggle against. Max was dragging two sleds with his ski-doo. I could now only see the very last one, just a few meters away.

We kept the pace through the wind, and about 35 kilometers away from our destination, we had the second break. I stopped the ski-doo and smoked a cigarette while the rest had a snack and some water. It looked as if the atmosphere got a bit clearer, giving the illusion that this might have been it. I finished the smoke, grabbed a couple of biscuits, and jumped again on the driver’s seat. Contrary to what we had hoped, the wind got even stronger. Snow storm was now hitting us and the visibility was terrible.

You enter some sort of trance when riding the storm. The reality around you becomes a vail so thick that it minimizes your perception and challenges your comfort zone, but curiously enough without suffocating you. Soon, however – provided the cold is not getting to you – the snow and wind becomes what can only be described as a “white dream”. All you have to or can do is float in it. I found myself being concentrated on small details for prolonged periods, the trembling speedometer, and the sound of the engine or the shallow beam of my headlights. These details become somehow important once there is nothing else out there. I tried to stimulate my thoughts by keeping an eye on Shane and Mike’s sled, whenever I could see it, make sure nothing falls off. It felt almost like waking up when Achim knocked my shoulder. The cold got him. We switched seats again.

Darren pushing forward: Departure from KAN_U (PROMICE network) 6th of May. Credit: Babis Charalampidis.

Darren pushing forward: Departure from KAN_U (PROMICE network) 6th of May. Credit: Babis Charalampidis.

It was not the first time I had arrived at Dye-2, but it was definitely the most peculiar one. This huge construction in the middle of the ice sheet is usually visible from tens of kilometers distance. This time, we were less than two kilometers away and I could not see it. Somewhere inside the distorted from the storm atmosphere, we could see another camp, another group of researchers, possibly. We wasted no time with setting our tents as we were eager to take shelter after the long hours in the storm. The teamwork that had gotten us so far these past two weeks peaked in a remarkable way, with Max leading the efforts. After an hour or so, while finishing with our camp, two researchers from the other camp came to greet us. They were bundled up and wore masks. I recognized one from his eyes, as I had met with him in Kangerlussuaq three weeks before. They said they hoped to catch the next flight out of the ice.

Our stay at Dye-2 was again very successful. All scheduled tasks were completed within 12 hours the second day after our arrival, and we even got to retrieve and log one extra firn core. That day, the other science group departed for Kangerlussuaq. On the evening of the third day, after logging the last core, we were able to relax a bit and visit the old radar station. It felt good to be there again. Shane and Mike managed to enter the side-dome. I was just glad to get to enjoy the view from the top once again.

Setting the last tent – the latrine tent – at Dye-2 on the 20th of May. Credit: Babis Charalampidis.

Setting the last tent – the latrine tent – at Dye-2 on the 20th of May. Credit: Babis Charalampidis.

Back in Kangerlussuaq, we were excited to find ourselves minutes away from a nice, long shower. We got a bit disappointed when Kathy Young told us that the local market was closed – being White Monday and all – and we could not buy beer. She asked us how everything went. We replied that we were really successful, completing more than our scheduled tasks, and that we were really surprised with how smooth everything went finally. We definitely had favorable weather most of the time, and we managed to take advantage of it. She laughed a bit, and said that we definitely impressed with our performance. We didn’t get it, and then she explained that the other science group from Dye-2 kept talking about our arrival in the middle of the storm and our casual camp establishment, like there’s nothing going on, while they had been in the tents due to the weather for days. We felt quite flattered by that, however we didn’t really have a choice. It didn’t feel casual either.

Two days later, we were on the move again, this time with an icelandic Twin Otter, visiting for one more week the northern locations of the FirnCover project. We established the remaining firn compaction stations, and retrieved several more firn cores. Favorable weather conditions were instrumental for the success of this year’s Arctic Circle Traverse. After all, that’s the most important factor up on the ice sheet. A skillful team, with which you can always push some more is the other. I am glad I was one sixth of it.

Arctic Circle Traverse 2015. Credit: Babis Charalampidis.

Arctic Circle Traverse 2015. Credit: Babis Charalampidis.

Edited by Nanna Karlsson and Sophie Berger


Babis Charalampidis (GEUS/Uppsala University) is an Uppsala University PhD student within the SVALI project, based at the Geological Survey of Denmark and Greenland and supervised by Dirk van As. He is interested in the Greenland ice sheet’s mass budget, particularly the link between energy balance and subsurface processes such as percolation and refreezing. He studies the changes of the lower accumulation area of the southwest of the ice sheet in a warming climate, based on in situ observations.

Read Babis’s story of his fieldwork last year here.