a sad day to leave Svalbard

We fly out tomorrow morning on the 4:50 am flight to Oslo, and then from there we head to Reykjavik, Iceland, and then on to Boston. Tomorrow evening will be my first "night" in five weeks, and part of me is quite excited to see the sun set for once. Yet another part of me is sad to say goodbye to Svalbard, to the people that I have met on our trip and in Svalbard, and to the landscape. The sun here is getting lower in the sky, and the first sunset is only a week or two off from now. It would be amazing to be here for that, but I guess that adventure will have to wait until the future. It would be even more amazing to be here when the sun rises for the first time in months: apparently the first part of Longyearbyen to be bathed by sunlight is the church. 

Today we hiked up to the main glacier behind Longyearbyen, and tonight we are headed out to dinner together. Ross and Julie will not tell us where we are going for dinner (as it is supposed to be a surprise), but if we really wanted to figure it out we probably could: there are not that many options here in Longyearbyen, even though it is a city compared to Ny Alesund. 

REU group with Longyearbyen in the distance (photo courtesy of Julie BG)

last few days in Ny Alesund and on to Longyearbyen

The last week has been hectic, as we wrapped up our fieldwork and traveled back to Longyearbyen. On Monday, we collected the last needed CTD and alpha bottle samples and checked on the upwelling sediment traps, which of course had vanished. The fjord monster is hard at work. In the afternoon, we took the boats up the fjord along the Broggerhalvoya peninsula (where Ny Alesund is located) to go look at some stone circles and collect shells from some raised beaches for Laura P's project. Unfortunately, the waves were too big for us to anchor the boats off shore, so we returned to Ny Alesund empty-handed. Monday evening we had our webinar with Polartrec, which is archived here if you didn't get a chance to see it. Throughout the webinar, Mike, who is our PolarTREC teacher, constantly corrected his pronunciation of "glacier" to appease one of our PIs, Ross Powell, who is from New Zealand.

Sadly, Tuesday was our last day of fieldwork. I finished profiling the Kongsvegen/Kronebreen terminus with the echosounder. Julie, Ross, and I then headed to the northernmost toe of Kronebreen to run a few baseline transects there; if the 2011 Svalbard REU group chooses to work in this area rather than the Kongsvegen/Kronebreen terminus, then the few transects that we run there will be useful to them. In the afternoon, we finally made our way out to the peninsula to look at the stone circles and collect some shells. Due to isostatic rebound, many of the beaches along the peninsula have been raised, so a collection of shells from different terraces can provide a snapshot into different offshore ecosystems as a function of time.

stone circles at Broggerhalvoya peninsula

Wednesday we packed up all our field equipment and samples for shipping. For me, sample "packing" is quite easy, because I just throw my data on a few different memory sources, so I have a backup in case a hard drive dies. In comparison, Laura P, Theo, and Hector all have to wait for their samples to dry, cut the unused core liner off, and then package their gravity, sediment trap, and ekmen samples, respectively.

Thursday we finished up the last bit of packing by putting the labels and inventories onto all the boxes and moving the boxes to the necessary locations to be shipped. Afterwards, we headed to lunch, which was unbelievably delicious: potato soup and cheesy bread. At home, I almost always have soup for lunch, so it was a nice surprise for me. We then waited for our flight, which was scheduled for 2:45pm.

The polar bear in the service building (where all our meals are served) wanted to take me for a romantic stroll while we waited for our flight.

When we finally had to leave, I was a wee bit sad. It is hard to say goodbye to such an amazing and surreal place, even though I am excited about the prospect of nighttime in the near future. Unfortunately, clouds covered the fjord as we flew over, but it cleared a little bit later.

sauna, swim, sauna, swim, sauna

What could be more enjoyable than a dip in the Arctic Ocean at 79 degrees N? After a short day in the field and an American dinner (burgers, fries, and ice cream), we headed to the sauna and then walked through town in our towels down to the beach. The water at Ny Alesund is not actually that cold, and the dip felt rather refreshing. Besides, once you get out of the water, you feel nice and toasty, because of the relatively warmer air temperature. We then repeated the process. The second swim felt a wee bit colder, but still no repeat on the frostbite!

Seals have a bit more (strategically-placed) blubber than me to stay warm in the Arctic ocean...but what a cutie!

Despite a short day in the field, we finished collecting all the needed cores and ekmen samples and deployed our last traps. The proximal trap that we deployed in front of the upwelling got snagged on an iceberg and lost in the brash ice within hours. 

buoys, connected to the sediment traps, among the bergy bits

the ice bear

As our Norwegian friend Raymond tells us with a gun slung across his back, "the ice bear can appear out of anywhere; you must be prepared." Yesterday a group of dutch scientists spotted a polar bear on the nearby islands while they were studying the birds, and apparently the bear chased a few of them as they kayaked away. Clearly, I want to see a polar bear, really badly. Unfortunately, no bear spotted today, but maybe that is actually a good thing. 

Today the two professors with us (Julie Brigham-Grette and Ross Powell) finally allowed us to "fly solo." Mama BG and Papa RP reminded us of safety precautions again before we left, which include (1) always be scanning the horizon for polar bears, (2) watch out for bergs, (3) stay at least 150-200 m from the ice front, and (4) be aware of the fog. Also, make sure someone in the boat can actually accurately fire a rifle if needed. It is a bit weird that we "prepare for work" by carrying rifles down to the boat and putting on large orange survival suits, which are best put on by wiggling into them like you would for a sleeping bag. 

Fieldwork today was rather uneventful. I drove the sediment trap and core boat, so I just tried to keep us on point while we deployed traps and the KB corer. It is very challenging to stay on point in front of the ice front, because the currents are strong and there is no nearby land to help you judge your position. One of the sediment traps that we deployed today in the morning we found 200 m away from its deployment location in the afternoon. Icebergs seem to be quite happy to pick up traps and move them around--luckily the berg moved the trap into shallower water today, so we didn't lose it. 

reindeer in Ny Alesund, with the launch tower for the Amundsen-Ellsworth-Nobile dirigible expedition (1927) that flew over the North Pole

each bird sits on its own berg

nearing the end of our fieldwork

We have four more days out in the field, followed by a day of packing in Ny Alesund and our flight to Longyearbyen on Thursday. It is strange to think that our fieldwork is almost over: on the on the one hand it feels like we just got started, and on the other it feels like it has been years since we got here. Yet another Arctic dichotomy.

Our days now extend long into the evenings with data processing, and the energy level in the group has definitely plummeted a bit. The 24 hour sunlight is no longer a barrier for most of us to fall asleep. Luckily on the weekends our schedule changes a bit, and we can get an extra hour of sleep.

The last three days have been beautiful on the fjord. Yesterday, we braved a cloudy, foggy Ny Alesund to drive down to the icefront to judge whether the weather would cooperate. Once we left Ny Alesund, we drove into a beautiful clear day.

Kongsvegen/Kronebreen 

tourist ship in the fog at the Ny Alesund dock

surreal and busy

Everything blends into one here. It is nearly impossible to judge time and distance. We can be 1 km or 100 m from the ice face, and it all feels the same - like you could just reach out and touch it. I also have no way to judge time (especially when it is cloudy and my watch is buried in my survival suit), and it is surprisingly pleasant to feel "lost in time." Still, my body desperately attempts to find environmental cues to know when to go to bed. Right now I judge bedtime as the time when the sled dogs bark and the sun shines directly through my window.

On top of that, tourist ships can drop off 3,000 people at one time in Ny Alesund. Considering the population of Ny Alesund is 50-100 people, this is quite a bit of shock to the system. It is strange to be on the other side of tourism for a change, and to be a "tourist attraction." When ever we see tourists taking pictures of us now, we jokingly ask "5 euro or 20 beers for a photo." If I earned $10 for every photo that has been taken of me, I might have enough money to pay for the rest of my college education. I've noticed that tourists particularly like to take photos of sediment cores and people dressed in dirty survival suits.

On Sunday, two huge tourist ships came into town. One dropped around 2,000 people and the other dropped close to 3,000 people.

Beyond contemplating the surreal nature of Ny Alesund (everyone does it here), we have been very busy. On Sunday, we covered most of the upwelling area with the echosounder. The discharge from the subglacial upwelling forces all the bergy bits out of the plume area, which is ideal for echosounding. On Sunday, the discharge was greater than usual and therefore we had a lot more clear water to navigate.

border of the plume, where the bergy bits collect

Yesterday, we collected Theo's three sediment traps from the delta and redeployed them in the same locations. Unfortunately, we lost one of those sediment traps today, likely to a berg. We also have lost both sediment traps deployed in the upwelling area because of a strong current, which forces the buoys lower than we can retrieve.

Today we continued with the echosounding in the middle of the Kongsvegen/Kronebreen face and near the delta. The ice front stayed rather stable all day, so it did not supply many obstacles (bergs) for the echosounding. Despite a cloudy, somewhat cold day, I stayed nice and toasty in my plastic bag. In fact, I produced enough hot air in the bag to cause it to "rain" on the computer. Woops.

When I get home from days when we used the echosounder, I have to input the GPS points manually into a spreadsheet because we do not have a USB cable. We take points every minute and typically run the echosounder for about 4 hours, so you can imagine how many points I have to input. So far, I have yet to make any pretty figures, but here is a rough preview of our transects thus far (without a base map, scale, or compass direction, unfortunately):

The ice front, which is to the right in this diagram, is about 2.5 km across. There are several obvious holes in our profiling thus far, but once those are full, we will likely go profile another of the toes of Kronebreen if we have time.

Now off to bed! I'm exhausted.

a beautiful day in Ny Alesund

When I woke up this morning, a thick fog coated the town. Within twenty minutes, the fog had completed evaporated. Two days of fog turned into a beautiful Saturday in the field, topped off with wine night in the service building and a night at the bar. (On Saturdays, everyone around town dresses up for dinner and brings wine. Kings Bay even brings out the fancy paper napkins, and there are wine glasses!)

Ny Alesund coming out of the fog

our daily commute to the glaciers (which takes 30-60 minutes, depending on the wind and concentration of bergy bits)

After successfully deploying three sediment traps yesterday, we deployed another two today. Theo, who's thesis relies on the sediment traps, is quite excited about our success: as he puts it, he has "five buns in the oven." Hopefully none of them get moved or snagged by icebergs before we retrieve them; usually, about half of the traps will be lost.

our daily meeting to swap boats

Today Mike, Ross, and I also started to run transects across the fjord in front of Kongsvegen/Kronebreen with the echosounder. We recorded two transects today, both perpendicular to the ice face and out from the upwelling plume. After a few trial and errors (one of which involved running an entire transect and a failure on my part to record it), we developed quite an efficient system. Ross attempts to drive in a straight line and avoid icebergs. Mike records GPS points along the transect, since we do not have an automatic way to input this into the echosounder program. I watch the depth profile on the computer screen and make adjusts on the high and low frequency channels, and also tell Mike when to take waypoints. The best part is that, throughout all of this, my head is in a black plastic bag so that I can see the screen in the light. I remember when I was a kid my mom told me NOT to put my head in a plastic bag, and now that I am better educated and more mature I realize the flaws of her statement: only put your head in a plastic bag when it is for science and you trust the people around you take it off your head when you start to suffocate.

echosounder set up (and my head in a bag)

It's late (and still light out), so I'm headed to the bar!