This will be my final missive from the Ice Base. As I look out of my tent window I see tents being dismantled and gear being packed. Nero played his fiddle as Rome burned. I type one last blog post as I wait for my last video clip to be transferred down our very slow, satellite internet link.

The Science tent is already down. It seems to have left a deep hole, though in fact this is just the four feet of snow that has drifted up against it in the last seven weeks. Boxes of science gear lie piled waiting for the aircraft, reminding me of the logistical and organisational difficulties of getting this project up and running.

Behind me Paul is hammering, drilling and -occasionally- swearing. His nemesis, the camp’s heaters, has struck one last time. He has to repair the heater as this tent is the one being used to store the scientists’ hard-won samples that must be stored above freezing temperatures. The samples that have to remain frozen sit out by the makeshift runway, though temperatures are fast rising above our usual deep freeze conditions. Spring has come. Indeed we have all suffered greatly over the last few days as temperatures became too warm for Malin to make any more chocolate ice cream. It is definitely time to go home.

Our strange world has become normal to me. I haven’t seen a tree in ages. I haven’t used money or chosen what to eat. I haven’t showered or watched TV. But I haven’t missed any of that either. All of us have been working hard, all day every day, since we arrived. Yet I haven’t heard cross words exchanged nor grumbling about wanting to go home. In the last day or two thoughts have turned towards fresh salads and socks, cold beers and hot baths, and getting back home to our families. But I suppose that is only natural.

This has been a very different expedition for me. I have never simultaneously been so remote and yet spending so many hours on my laptop trying to get the internet to work. I look out at jumbled sea ice, remember I am living on top of an ocean, and then hear the clanging pans that are our dinner gong and I go to tuck into roast beef or teriyaki prawns. 

It has been interesting for me to be on an expedition whose aims are the gathering of new knowledge and the sharing of information with a wide audience. This has made the project feel like a really worthwhile one to be involved with, if only on a small scale. I look forward to seeing the scientists’ reports over the next few months. They have worked hard out here, making the most of their rare opportunity to work out on the sea ice during the interesting winter-spring transition period. 

It is with sadness then that I will finish this piece, dismantle the Comms tent, and wait for the distant sound of the Twin Otter airplane that is coming to take us home, back to the world of trees and grass. So I tell you, if you have the desire for knowledge and the power to give it physical expression, go out and explore. Some will tell you that you are mad, and nearly all will say, “What is the use?” for we are a nation of shopkeepers, and no shopkeeper will look at research which does not promise him a financial return within a year. And so you will sledge nearly alone, but those with whom you sledge will not be shopkeepers: that is worth a good deal. And you will have your reward, so long as all you want is a copepod.

Posted by Al Humphreys, Ice Base Communications Manager

We did not even know that a General Election had been called until our resupply brought in new people from the outside world. And we had no idea of the mounting election fever in the UK until the Channel 4 journalists that stayed with us for a few days began fretting that their story would get bumped as it had nothing to do with politics. 

It is strange how one of the most important events for my country feels virtually irrelevant up in the High Arctic. All of the Brits on the Ice Base agree that we feel disillusioned by British Politics and feel fortunate to have escaped the squabbling and empty hysteria. We have all made up our minds who we wish to vote for and don’t feel the need for minute scrutinizing of Sam Cam’s dress choice or Gordon Brown’s biscuit preferences to sway our decision. 

An Arctic experience tends to encourage thinking big rather than small. We are in an environment where few things matter much, but those that do matter matter a great deal. I have long believed that anyone wishing to become an MP must spend 6 months serving on the front line in a war, 6 months in an NHS hospital, 6 months as a social worker on a rough estate, and so on. 

Perhaps now I would add to the list that all prospective MPs should be sent on an extended Arctic expedition to gain a sense of perspective on life and life’s priorities. On second thoughts I won’t add that to my list as we are all happy being many thousands of miles away from the nearest politician. I am afraid to report then that the Ice Base is one small corner of a foreign field where election fever has failed to reach.

It is interesting to look at this camp as a mini community and to observe how decisions have been made here. We have one overall leader (Paul), whose authority, in case of an emergency, is non-negotiable. But this is not really applicable on a day to day basis. Everyone is equal and everyone’s opinion carries equal weight. Paul is valued as much for his ability to turn a chappati into a toritilla as for his role as Ice Base Manager. Yet we don’t operate like a democracy either. I have never witnessed a disagreement or a matter needing to be put to the vote. 

The way the Ice Base has worked is that it just worked. Everyone knows what needs to be done, and everyone does it. People do not wait to be asked to do things. We have no rota for helping Malin with the washing up. People just do what needs doing. 

This may all sound gushingly nauseating – our happy little community of capable, positive, altruistic people. But it perhaps explain a little our disinterest in the expense-fiddling, limelight-grabbing MPs we must choose to lead us.

Posted by Al Humphreys, Communications Manager

This is one of the strangest places I have ever been. We are hundreds of miles north of the nearest village and just 700 miles from the North Pole. There are just six other people here with me. If we have a major emergency we could be in a very perilous position. We have an igloo. We have midnight sun. So in some regards this is the most isolated, remote place that I have ever been. Indeed, one of the things I was looking forward to about coming here was the sense of solitude. And yet, despite my regular efforts, it is very rare that I feel isolated here. 

As I eat homemade fresh bread for breakfast I have to remind myself that the nearest bakery is thousands of miles away. As I clutch head in hands at my desk, searching for the right words for this blog I have to look up and out the window to remember where I am. And as I drift off to sleep at night I am not continually conscious of sleeping on a thin skin of ice floating on the Arctic Ocean. 

Oliver summed it up well yesterday. The 20 knot wind was filling the air with snow and visibility was very poor. They trekked for half an hour back from the sampling site and, with Brownie hauling the scientists’ equipment sledge, they felt pretty wild. Only to step into Malin’s mess tent and be served fresh baked pizza and Coca-Cola for lunch. The impression of privation and hardship was shattered! Indeed the nearest any of us could feel to being isolated during that lunch was when we ran out of Tabasco sauce.

Daily phone calls and emails from the office in London further maintain our connection to the world. I am not sure it is possible to feel really isolated these days when you have wireless internet and a telephone. That said we have no real idea what is happening in the outside world. The internet is so expensive here that it is never used except for CAS related emailing. I don’t even know any football results, so perhaps I am isolated up here, after all…

Posted by Alastair Humphreys, Comms Manager

Just like on land, the ocean food web starts with plants. The main difference between land and ocean plants is that ocean plants, called phytoplankton, are microscopic. All plants, including phytoplankton, rely on the sun’s energy to photosynthesise. During photosynthesis they take up CO₂ and nutrients from the water to make organic matter and release oxygen -- Over the entire world’s oceans these tiny plants contribute half of the oxygen that goes into the atmosphere, which we need to breathe. Because phytoplankton need sunlight, they are usually found in the surface waters of the oceans, from the surface down to about 50 meters. 

The tiny animals that live and float around in the oceans are called zooplankton. Many zooplankton feed on phytoplankton; these organisms are grazers just like cows grazing on grass in a field. Some zooplankton are carnivores and eat other zooplankton; just like cats eat mice. Then bigger animals, like fish, whales and birds feed on these zooplankton and so on through the food chain all the way to top predators like sharks, polar bears and of course humans. A lot of these animals live in the surface waters where there is phytoplankton; but for some of the smaller organisms these surface waters can be very dangerous because they can be seen, and hence eaten, by predators. So some zooplankton undergo a daily vertical migration to avoid being eaten by predators. Every day thousands of zooplankton swim up to the surface to feed and then return back down to the deep ocean where it is dark and they can hide from predators. In some areas of the oceans this mass of organisms is so large it can be picked up on echo sounders and monitored as it moves up and down over hundreds of meters. This is no mean feat for an organism the size of a pin head. To these tiny creatures swimming in the ocean is like a human trying to swim through treacle; a 200 meter daily swim for them is the equivalent of a human swimming across the Atlantic Ocean and back every day. 

In the high Arctic, copepods are an important type of zooplankton. They are important not only as part of the food chain but also for carbon and nutrient cycling in the oceans. When zooplankton grazers, such as copepods, eat phytoplankton they are actually eating the organic carbon which started off as CO₂ in the atmosphere. Copepods undertake the vertical migration to the surface waters every day to feed on phytoplankton; and when they are full, they migrate back down to the deep waters to hide in the dark out of the way of predators. At depths of 200 or more meters the copepods digest their food and excrete faeces. This means that the carbon and nutrients that they had eaten as phytoplankton at the surface has rapidly been transported down to the deep ocean and released there in neat packets of excrement. This is an accelerator for locking away carbon from the atmosphere into the deep ocean where it can be stored for thousands of years. Without this accelerator it would take months or even years for dead phytoplankton to sink out of the surface waters and breakdown in the deep ocean. There would be less CO₂ taken up into oceans, which would affect our climate; there would be fewer nutrients available from the deep oceans as well as a change in the food web structure, which would affect the food we get from the sea. 

Copepods spend the winter months in a resting phase in the deep ocean where they don’t eat or migrate. As the winter comes to an end, the sun light returns to the Arctic Ocean and phytoplankton once again spring into life. Copepods then begin their great daily journey through the water column to the surface waters to feed on the blooming phytoplankton. Many species of copepods brood their eggs over winter so that they can release their babies (larvae) during the spring bloom when there is lots of food for the larvae to eat. This is what we are finding here in the Canadian Arctic now. At the beginning of our expedition, in March, we made trawls of the water column from 100 meters to the surface and we did not find many animals or plants. We extended our trawl down to 200 m and there we found a lot of copepods. As the month progressed we began to find more and more phytoplankton in the water column and along with that we found more types of zooplankton, as well as lots of copepod eggs and larvae. Now as we pull out our fine nets from the water and empty the contents into containers the water is almost boiling with all the movement and life within it. We are currently taking measurements over 24 hour periods to try to capture these copepods in action; watching them and how they change the ocean chemistry as they cycle through the great migration of the sea.

Posted by Helen Findlay, Ice Base scientist

Alastair Humphreys, Communications Manager at the Ice Base, ponders some of the things that he hasn't seen since being on the ice...

10 things I haven’t seen in ages

Trees, grass or flowers

Birds or insects

A stone, dust or a road

Money

A child

A house or a shop

A television or newspaper

A stranger

Night

My Feet

Posted by Alastair Humphreys, Comms Manager

We asked the Ice Base team what their best bit of kit was, what their luxury item was and what (apart from friends and family) they missed when out on the ice. 

Name and Role: Paul Ramsden – Ice Base Manager

Best bit of kit: Handmade Icelandic sheepskin hat or a snow knife

Luxury Item: Extra pants

Misses: Alcohol

Name and Role: Steeve Comeau - Scientist

Best bit of kit: Sleeping Bag

Luxury Item: Computer

Misses: Good wine

Name and Role: Alastair Humphreys - Comms Manager

Best bit of kit: Mini Atlas

Luxury Item: iPod

Misses: Match of the Day/Espresso

Name and Role: Tyler Fish, Polar Guide

Best bit of kit: Pee Bottle

Luxury Item: Spare boots

Misses: Movies 

Name and Role: Oliver Wurl - Scientist

Best bit of kit: Mickey Mouse boots

Luxury Item: Camera

Misses: Nothing

Name and Role: Malin Hoiseth - Ice Base Chef

Best bit of kit: She Wee

Luxury Item: Computer

Misses: Bathtub

Name and Role: Helen Findlay - Scientist

Best bit of kit: Leatherman

Luxury Item: Computer

Misses: Double Bed

Putting a group of people who have never met before, into a camp in the outreaches of the Arctic, with no respite or possibility of going home, is the stuff of Reality Television. On TV there would be tears, tantrums, cliques and evictions. By those parameters then the Ice Base would make for terrible viewing: life here is boringly amiable. 

And yet we are living and working, all day every day, in a confined and difficult environment. For safety reasons nobody is allowed to wander off on their own for a couple of hours of decompression. But, until I wrote that sentence, this had never struck me as claustrophobic. 

Is it just a fortunate coincidence that amongst the scientists and Ice Base staff there has not been a single falling out or cross word? I think not.

A project like this immediately rules out lazy people and negative people. The office “sniper” – that person who is only happy when complaining or criticising – would not be interested in 7-day work weeks and personal inconvenience. 

Secondly, everyone is here through choice. Our motives for coming are all different, but they are united in a love of this environment and a feeling of privilege to be able to do our work out here. When you feel like that about what you are doing then you actively want to work hard. There is no incentive to shirk and this then removes one of the biggest causes of friction in a normal working environment. Knowing that if somebody has not helped to wash up for a few days it is because they are busy in the evening rather than just lazy is important.

Everyone has an important role to play here. Each person is the best person at their job. There is no real overlap and no real competition. Each person therefore has a strong sense of adding value to the project as a whole.

Up here people are aware that there is no escape. Even if somebody is not the type of person you would normally spend time with, out on the ice you have no choice. So you find yourself making more of an effort than you may do at home where you can quickly think “this sort of man is not my style” and move on to other people. In the Arctic we are all together, like it or not. So you may as well put in the effort to like it. And meal times are a very important time for this. We all come together, spend time together and laugh and talk together.

A wise man once told me “nobody ever learned anything with his mouth open”. It is generally true that the more experienced and interesting a person is, the less they feel the need to tell everyone about it. Up here I feel fortunate to be surrounded by really interesting, talented, accomplished people. But none of them are perpetually talking about themselves. They are interested as well as interesting. The people I am with here listen, they ask questions and they want to learn. There is no Camp Bore. 

As in Big Brother, it is a lack of communication that can cause friction and resentment, particularly as people tire towards the end of the project. It is important for people in the field to be kept informed by HQ of any issues, and important that everyone in the camp is made aware of matters relevant to them. Rumours, speculation and half-truths are not helpful to anybody. 

I can honestly say that since I have been here I have never felt a shard of irritation towards any of the scientists or permanent Ice Base staff. I have no idea who I would choose to vote off the Ice Base were we to face Eviction Night (it definitely would not be Malin the chef!). Boring television perhaps, but it is a treat to live in this community. 

Posted by Al Humphreys, Ice Base Comms Manager 

It’s -25 degrees C outside and I am lying in an igloo. It is midnight and outside the igloo the sun slowly slides across the horizon. Total silence. I am alone in an igloo on the Arctic Ocean! 

Beneath me is 4 foot of translucent ice and then nothing: just 200metres of dark, cold brine. Above me is a dome of ice, 6 inch thick, rough hewn trapeziums of ice that sift and soften and cold filter the lambent light from outside. The blue light seeps through stronger at the joints of each block, though they are sealed from the wind by driven snow after the drifting of the past two days that hampered our resupply flights but soften the outside of the igloo to a more amorphous, curved shape. 

I am camping on frozen water, sheltered from above by frozen water. In a few weeks time all this will be open sea. In a few years time, perhaps, this will always be open sea. I don’t want to be the last generation of overgrown boys to lie grinning in a sleeping bag an Arctic igloo. This is one of the greatest wildman sleeps that I have ever had.

Here's my videoblog: 

Posted by Al Humphreys, Ice Base Comms Manager

I began this blog post by writing “yesterday we had a Japanese visitor”. But I realised that it was irrelevant to emphasise his nationality for we have had no other visitor at all! I need not even have categorised him as human for we have not had a visit from an animal, bird or insect. 

So I will begin again. Yesterday we had a visitor.

The effect on our camp was startling. Everyone was feeling dejected as our resupply plane had just flown straight over us without stopping and disappeared back over the horizon. The weather was deteriorating and it seemed likely that it would not return that day. 

We were sitting in the Mess Tent drinking tea when somebody looked out the window and said “there’s somebody out there.” Russell was the first to reach him, running across the flat snow shouting “Welcome to the Ice Base!” Our new arrival had not seen another human for over a month. He gave Russell an enormous bear hug and burst into tears!

Yasunaga Ogita, 32,  has walked solo and unsupported from Resolute Bay to our IceBase.  He has taken 37 days to haul his 115kg sledge 575km. So now we know how long it would take us to get back to civilisation without the luxury of Kenn Borek Air! 

Laura and Ceri together hauled his pulk over to the Mess Tent and we all sat down to hear his tales. His face was windburned and he looked tired but very, very happy to be here. He was even happier as we placed plate after plate of food in front of him! He kept closing his eyes between mouthfuls and saying “I am so happy!”

Yasunaga had intended to walk from Resolute to a location close to our Ice Base. But once he heard that we would be out here he changed his destination to the Catlin Ice Base! The expedition is a training project for him: next year he intends to walk solo and unsupported to the North Pole. 

However this is only the halfway point – after being fattened up by Malin for a couple of days Yasunaga is going to walk all the way back to Resolute Bay!
Some members of our camp were very surprised that he did not jump on the aeroplane when it eventually arrived and so save himself a 575km slog. But I for one am very envious of his journey and completely understand why he did not want to fly out. To be out here on the Arctic Ocean alone is a dream of mine. 

He has already seen three polar bears, several musk ox and a snowy owl. Wonderful though his experience is, there is no doubt that it is very hard. And so we are very happy to be able to look after him for a couple of days before waving him back on his way southwards.

For all those who can read Japanese, here is his web page: www.ogita-exp.com

Ganbatte!

Written by Al Humphreys, Ice Base Manager

Footwear is a pretty important factor to get right when working or travelling in the Arctic. Here's my top five: 

- Alpha Sjurmordre skiing boots are what I wore to the North Pole last year. They are expensive, but the best boots I know of

- MEC booties. These are cheap and cheerful but fantastic to wear in the tent at night. Like sleeping bags for your feet

- Stieger mukluks. These caribou skin boots, with felt inners, are very similar to the footwear worn in the Arctic for hundreds of years. For skiing, dog mushing and anything on dry snow below -15C they are fabulous.

- Weber Arctic Pack Boots. A very reliable, multi-purpose boot that has served me well on many expeditions

- US Army Issue “Mickey Mouse” boots. These famous white boots work well in wetter snow. They are designed to be dry and low-maintenance meaning that you don’t need to take such good care of your feet when you wear these

- Integral Designs foot vapour barrier liners. Not boots but a great accessory to wear with many types of footwear for preventing the build up of moisture given off from your body

…and finally…

the three luxuries I carried to the North Pole last year were:

* Chocolate

* Butter

* Single malt Scotch!

Posted by John Huston, Ice Base Polar Guide 

Now into the final third of the science expedition, it’s probably a good time to describe some of the changes that we’ve been seeing over the last month. I’ve experienced all sorts of changes – people, weather, camp conditions, and of course science…

The most obvious change we’ve experienced has been the increasing day length. When Ceri, Laura and I first arrived at the Ice Base the sun was setting at about 6.30 pm and sunrise was about 7.00 am. The nights were very dark and often we would experience beautiful clear skies with thousands of stars. We also had the moon above the horizon for most of the first couple of weeks. It finally disappeared from our view with a spectacular display: a midnight full moon glowing a tangerine orange just above the horizon in the South, surrounded by a silky blue sky which changed into a rainbow of colours to the North where the sun was just skimming along out of sight below the horizon. 

Now, a month later, although the sun is not above the horizon for 24 hours yet, we do have daylight all the time. The sun just dips below the horizon at about 11.30 pm and rises again at about 3.00 am and we’ve been granted some stunning sunsets over the last few days. Because of the angle of the sun as its sets, we’ve seen some amazing light displays – halos and sun dogs, arches of light and last night even a beam of light reaching from the ball of the sun as it hit the horizon stretching upwards three or four times as high again into the sky. That’s not to say we get good enough weather every day for these brilliant displays…

The weather, as I write, is a balmy minus 10 ºC. However the wind is howling from the east and we’re getting a full on snow storm. The temperatures at the start of our trip were minus 25 ºC or below, often minus 30 ºC and sometimes as low as minus 40 ºC. But since the second resupply flight we haven’t really seen temperatures drop much below minus 20 ºC. We have had some really windy days though and the last few days we’ve had strong south or south-easterly winds which drop the temperature down to minus 30 to minus 35 ºC. Maybe it’s just that we have been getting used to it, but as the month has gone on we’ve certainly not felt as cold, and there are days when it’s been minus 20 ºC with no wind and we’ve been walking around quite happily without our jackets, gloves and hats.

The sun and the weather bring me on to some of the more scientific changes we’ve seen. Just like at home, as spring develops plants start to come back to life and animals are born. Up here the sun has a very important role in kick-starting the spring bloom under the sea ice. We’ve started to see that the hundreds of thousands of microscopic plants, known as phytoplankton, are coming back to life. These tiny plants are so important for our planet – over the whole Ocean they produce half of our world’s oxygen – and more importantly for this project, they take up CO₂ as they photosynthesise. As these phytoplankton begin to bloom, the animals that feed on them are also becoming more abundant. 

These microscopic animals, called zooplankton, are the next stage in the food web. They eat the plants, and are themselves eaten by bigger animals. Not only that but they are important for transporting nutrients and carbon around the ocean. Some of these zooplankton are adults, but a lot of what we’re starting to find are babies and eggs. This is all very exciting for Ceri and I, who are interested in knowing how these early life stages will respond to changes in ocean chemistry. 

Copepods for example, were quite common in their adult form in the first week or so of the trip, but since then we’ve been finding more and more embryos and larvae (the babies!). We spend a lot of time staring down our microscopes counting the organisms we collect; there are beautifully formed phytoplankton, in all sort of weird shapes – circles, chains, spikes and triangles. Watching the zooplankton (the adults and the larvae) is literally like peering into an alien world. The odd structures of these animals means they look like something straight out of a sci-fi film: worms wriggling across our view, jellies pulsing their iridescent combs, pteropods flapping their modified foot, chaetognaths darting like arrows, and copepods chilling out with their huge antennae extended. 

We’ve also seen small changes in the ice conditions. At the beginning of the trip we did some ice coring, which produced some very cold and dry cores. However, when we did a couple yesterday, the ice towards the bottom of the core was much softer and seemed to be slushier. There are still not any major signs of life within the ice. But it shouldn’t be long before the ice-algae starts to appear in the bottom few centimetres of the sea-ice, now that the sun is up in the sky. 

Above the ice, every day is different. The changes in snow conditions around the camp has been fascinating to watch, and my one regret is that I haven’t taken a photo from the same position every day to document how dynamic this environment is. We flew in to a very flat serene camp, with just a few patches of low lying sastrugi (snow blown into wave shapes by the wind). After our first big storm the whole camp looked very different, with huge waves of snow where it had formed drifts on the lee side of the tents. Every time a strong wind blows in a different direction we get new drifts forming on a new side of the tents. Today’s easterly wind is the first easterly we’ve had, and because it’s currently blowing snow everywhere there it’s incredibly hard to see definition of drifts. New drifts keep forming and we keep walking into them. Just now I walked into one that swallowed me up to my thighs.

So that brings me on to changing people. Today’s storm has prevented the third and final resupply flight from coming out to us. (Actually this is also a trend, if we’re due a resupply flight we can almost guarantee that instead we’ll get a storm – each flight so far has been delayed by about 4 or 5 days…) We had a total reshuffle of base staff on the first resupply flight, which meant some sad goodbyes to all four staff (Simon, Harald, Paul and Fran) and one of the science team (Glenn). However they were replaced by another brilliant team,  four strong (Paul, John, Al and Malin), and we soon got to know them as well as the last group. 

Every set of people has been different and hugely inspiring, which makes the whole project very dynamic and incredibly interesting for me, personally, as I get to experience the whole thing from start to finish. I do have to admit that it will be nice that three of the four base staff are staying with me now until the end. Although I will also be saying goodbye to Ceri and Laura as they head home without me. Having spent the last month in each others pockets we’ve certainly formed a close bond and our teamwork has paid dividends to the success of the science so far. 

But it’s exciting to think that in many ways this is just the beginning of a career of working together with the people I’ve met on this trip so far. I am looking forward to spending the last third of the project with two new science faces, Steeve and Oliver, and I’m intrigued to hear how they feel about the storm they’re experiencing while being stuck waiting to join us here. 

Written by Helen Findlay, Ice Base Scientist

Last night, for the first time in my life, I slept in an igloo. The product of the snow engineering skills of myself, Mr. Ramsden and Russell Atagootak, the igloo is currently the pride and joy of the Ice Base.

Tonight, the three intrepid scientists, Helen, Ceri and Laura will spend their last night on the ice together, in the igloo. After a month on the ice Ceri and Laura fly out tomorrow.

I've been impressed by the scientists' dedication to their work and their resourcefulness in some very challenging conditions. However, it's their teamwork and strong positive morale that I'll remember most.

As Ice Base guide it's my job to ensure the safety of the scientists at all times and to do whatever is needed to make their jobs easier. I accompany them whenever they leave base, bring tea to their tents each morning, troubleshoot with equipment glitches, assist in taking samples and sometimes lead them in hilarious looking down-coated yoga routines. 

When not working with Laura, Ceri and Helen, I help Mr. Ramsden with various repairs, upkeep and logistical tasks necessary to keep the camp running.

Last Tuesday, I ate 10 chocolate bars.

In the long Arctic evenings we all take walks amongst the ice rubble. Sunsets up here can last for hours. We all are thoroughly enjoying the warm April sunshine on the Arctic Ocean. 

It has been a pleasure to be involved in the Catlin Arctic Survey.

Posted by John Huston, Polar Guide, Ice Base

Today was our seventh main sample day of the trip. That means we’re over half way through our science expedition. Time seems to be flying by, especially now that we’ve settled into a routine -- which seems to involve a lot of eating. So what is a daily routine for a scientist out on the frozen Arctic Ocean about 600 miles from the North Pole? Well it always begins with a struggle to get out of our sleeping bags, made up for by a nice cup of tea and a good hearty breakfast of porridge and pancakes. After breakfast the daily routine depends on if it’s a main sample day or whether it’s a “lab” day. 

If it’s a Sample day then we pack up the sleds with our various bits of equipment and head off to the sample site 2 km away. The sleds are pulled either by a combination of Brownie the dog and us, or by skidoo. On arriving at the site we have to clear the ice hole of surface ice and set up our equipment, which usually takes about an hour. Then we do our sampling. We take water samples for chemical and microbial analysis, profiles of the salinity and temperature, and then take plankton trawls to look at the phytoplankton and the zooplankton. The sampling normally takes us about five hours and once we’re done we bring all the samples back to the Ice Base science tent were we start to process the seawater and organisms we’ve collected. The processing – filtering seawater, counting organisms though microscopes, and bottling up samples – usually takes us through until our dinner at 6.30 pm. After dinner we spend a few more hours doing other science tasks, which vary from troubleshooting problem equipment, writing up our notebooks for the day, maintaining the Ocean Acidification experiments we have running at the Ice Base, or finishing off packing equipment away from the days work. On a good day we’re finished in time for a sunset walk across to the nearby rubble-ice or a chat and a game of cards in the mess tent. On a busy day we’ll work late and head straight to bed with our hot water bottles.

On a “lab” day we primarily stay at the Ice Base. This means that we work on sampling for CO₂ in the atmosphere and the sea-ice and we work on our Ocean Acidification experiments; making measurements, sampling and maintaining the seawater conditions of the experiments. On these days we get the luxury of having lunch with the others in the Mess tent, another hearty affair. Again, in the evenings we tend to still have work to do, sometimes just catching up with emails and work back at our home institutes. 

These days are interspersed with trips up to the sample site to collect more plankton for the experiments or to take ice-cores, which make for a nice walk to stretch our legs. We also have time to do some washing – I think I’m due to have another clothes wash – and Saturday is our hair-washing day, a special treat for us to get out the soap and hot water! The sunsets have been incredibly beautiful this week, and getting later each day by about 20 minutes. It doesn’t really get dark any more, which has been a strange transition to witness and will be really interesting to see through until the midnight sun appears in a week or so. Life seems to be getting easier out here; it certainly feels warmer, although it is still minus 20 degrees Celsius most days. We haven’t had much colder than that for a couple of weeks and even minus 20 now feels warm when there isn’t any wind. Getting into sleeping bags is certainly easier. So only another 20 days to go...

Posted by Helen Findlay, Scientist, Ice Base

It has been a busy first week for me out here at the Ice Base. As well as the variety of my usual jobs I somehow ended up volunteering to cook curry for everybody tonight. Malin, our fantastic Norwegian cook, was pleased to have a night off: she has to cook three meals a day, every day, for a month. The rest of the team might not be so happy though once they find out that I’m doing the cooking!

Simon and his team who set up the camp brilliantly and made my handover comparatively straightforward made things much simpler for me. I am sure it is mere coincidence that the day after Simon left two of the large tents’ heating stoves broke! But one of the main aspects of my job here is responding to problems exactly like these. After a lot of fiddling and a little bit of swearing they seem to be running fine now. Expedition heating tents are famously temperamental. I scowl suspiciously each time I pass them.

Our mess tent stands on an insulated floor but over time the heat from the stove that melts snow for drinking water also melts the snow beneath the tent. So John, Russell and I dismantled it and built a thick plywood base for it.

Plywood is one of my best friends on a remote expedition camp. It has so many uses, including upgrading our toilet from a very small bucket to a far more luxurious Arctic special. After much discussion a design was settled on and I set to work building “the most advanced toilet system this side of Resolute Bay” from a barrel, some plywood and a bin bag.

Round our sleeping quarters is an electric fence to warn us of any nocturnal polar bear visits. Buried deep in my two sleeping bags I have been sleeping so well that I fear I would sleep blissfully through all the excitement! Fortunately John, the polar guide, is a light sleeper. He has also taken on the task of taking mugs of tea to the scientists in their tent in the morning.

We’ve got a really good group of people out here and morale is high: we’ve begun a series of evening lectures after dinner. I spoke about some of the climbing trips I have been on over the years. And I really enjoyed hearing everyone else’s tales too. It’s been a really good way of getting to know each other which is definitely important as there is nobody else but us for hundreds of miles!

Right, I’d better get on and start cooking the curry now. I have a cunning plan as to how I can turn our supply of tortillas into chapattis… 

A news crew has been ‘embedded’ at the Ice Base over the past week. Bits of equipment that work perfectly well in a normal environment have a habit of packing up in the extreme cold. Here they list the best and worst bits of kit they used. 

BEST ELECTRONIC EQUIPMENT

Garmin GPS

Lithium batteries

Dry bags for sealing cameras when taking them into warm tents

Canon 5D Mk ii camera. Superb cold weather battery life as well

Final Cut Pro and  a MacBook

Brand new batteries in cameras make a huge difference

No problem using tapes in the Sony cameras

BEST GENERAL EQUIPMENT

Down booties for inside the tents

Merino wool thermals

Lip balm

WORST EQUIPMENT

Manfrotto tripod

Heat Factory heat pads

Sony Z1 less good than the 5D Mk ii

NEXT TIME I WOULD BRING

Sachtler tripod

Wide angle lens

Windproof balaclava

Ski goggles

Russell, our Inuit Guide, has built an inuksuk to look over us here at the Ice Base. The word inuksuk literally translates as ‘to act in the capacity of a human’ and they are among the most important objects created by the Inuit, who were the first people to inhabit portions of Alaska, Arctic Canada and Greenland.
 
Traditionally made out of stone, these figures played a role both in the earthly and spiritual planes. On Earth, they acted as hunting and navigation aids, coordination points, indicators, and message center. For example, the longest stone arm could be used to point to the closest village where the viewer would find safety.
 
Spiritually they were objects of veneration, often marking the threshold of the spiritual landscape, where life is renewed and spirits reside. By guiding the traveler’s way across the landscape, the inuksuk may also guide the living along the best path to their spiritual home.
 
Increasingly they are used as cultural symbols across Nunavut and Canada, to signify safety, love, hope, friendship and the human spirit. The mascot logo of the 2010 Winter Olympics was, albeit controversially, based on a traditional inuksuk design.
 
In the words of Norman Hallendy, who has dedicated his life to unraveling the mysteries of Inuit sacred sites, "When you look at an old inuksuk, you are seeing more than just a stack of stones. You are seeing the thoughts of another person left upon the land."

We thank Russell for bringing this symbol of spirituality and friendship into all of our lives.

Written by Al Humphreys, Ice Base Comms Manager

3^rd March – 15^th March 2010

Early on Wednesday 3rd March I headed to Aberdeen Airport to begin my journey to the sea ice of Deer Bay off the coast of Isachsen, Ellef Ringnes Island, Canada. I was finally on my way to carry out some novel and exciting fieldwork attempting to answer questions on the topic of ocean acidification. 

I was nervous about the fieldwork and how I would cope in the cold temperatures (averaging around -30 to -35 °C at this time of year) but also excited about the prospect of being involved inthe Catlin Arctic Survey 2010 and obtaining rare data in this Arctic location during the winter-spring transition period. There are very few measurements on ocean acidification at this time of year in the Arctic and yet it's a very interesting period when there are large changes occurring within the biology, chemistry and sea ice of the Arctic Ocean.

The journey to the sea ice base took several days with brief stops at Ottawa, Iqaluit and Nanisivik and the remote Canadian outpost of Resolute before flying out to the sea ice base. In Ottawa I met up with the other scientist from the UK, Ceri Lewis and Helen Findlay. We caught up with the Canadian scientist on the team, Glenn Cooper, in Iqaluit.

At Resolute we met the rest of the Catlin Arctic Survey 2010 team for the first part of the fieldwork on the ice as well as the explorers Ann Daniels, Martin Hartley and Charlie Paton who would be collecting data for us on their expedition to the North Pole. Our ice base field team consisted of Simon Garrod (Ice base manager), Harald Kippenes (Polar Guide), Paul Deegan (Communications manager) and Fran Orio (Ice base chef). 

We had 5 days of polar training in Resolute with Harald taking most of the training for our time in the field, which included signs and early symptoms of frostbite, stove lighting in extreme cold and polar bear awareness among other topics. We also spent a night out camping to get a feel for how things would be once we made it to the ice base. The night we stayed out the temperature was around -37 °C and despite three sleeping bags, a couple of sleeping mats and going to bed in thermals and fleeces it still felt cold. In the morning we woke to find ice around our faces on the sleeping bag and on the inside of the tent roof – moisture from our breathing had frozen in the cold temperatures!

Whilst in Resolute we also worked on the science equipment to prepare and test it in the cold environment. My main involvement in the fieldwork is to try and take measurements of the flux of CO₂ through sea ice and involves several pieces of digital equipment with liquid crystal displays which tend to not work well in cold environments. We also helped the explorers with their training on the science equipment they would be using on their trek to the Pole.

Weather delays and availability of planes meant that we didn’t get out to the ice base until 15^th March (four days later than originally planned). When we arrived at the ice base everything was all ready to go as an advance party including Simon, Paul and Harald had been sent out to find a suitable stable site for the camp and runway. All the ice base staff have a wealth of experience in polar environments and expeditions which not only gives one confidence in their ability to run such an expedition but also makes for some very interesting dinner conversations. Brownie the dog, a local Resolute owned dog, was also in the advance party due to her skills in giving warning of approaching polar bears.

16^th March – 2^nd April 2010

Based on first year sea ice approximately 1.5 m thick and about 10 km from the rugged coastline of Isachsen on Ellef Rignes Island the location of the Catlin Arctic Survey 2010 site is stunning. It’s quite surreal here, like being on a different planet and it’s not as flat as you might think. The ice we’re camped on is flat but to the north and south of camp there are regions of multi year ice which have ridged up over time and created a bizarre but beautiful rubbled ice landscape.

Our sample site is approximately 2 km west of camp and initially we used a skidoo to get all the equipment out there to take the samples of water chemistry, biology and underlying physical measurements (currents and temperature profiles). As well as the water studies, we are also taking ice core samples for analysis and atmospheric studies to help with the determination of CO₂ flux through the sea ice. The skidoo like many mechanical and digital systems did not like the extreme cold and broke down and it chose to do so on the day a storm developed whilst we were at the sample site. We ended up having to return to camp during the storm on foot. The temperature at the ice base had been around -25 to -40 °C for our first week in camp but the night of the storm, with winds gusting up to 60 mph, temperatures that night reached below -60 °C with wind chill.

Our husky cross, Brownie, came to the rescue for future trips to the sample site. As we no longer had the skidoo, man and dog worked together to haul the science equipment to the sample site. Brownie really enjoyed herself and pulled hard and now gets upset if we don’t take her with us on sampling days.

We’ve had some very successful sampling days so far and the Catlin Arctic Survey still has nearly a month to run so hopefully we should collect a really good set of data for the period. Ceri has been delighted to find a wide variety of plankton in the waters (copepods, pteropods) and the electronic equipment seems to all be working well. Our initial ice base team have now headed back home and been replaced with Paul Ramsden (Ice Base Manager), Alastair Humphreys (Communications manager), John Huston (Polar guide), Malin Hoiseth (Ice base chef) and Russell (Inuit guide). They’re all settling in well and getting use to camp life. We made some good friends within the original Ice Base staff and miss them but I’m sure they’ll be some new good friendships that develop with the new group.

Posted by Laura Edwards, Ice Base Scientist

Continuing a polar tradition from expeditions dating back as far as Nansen and Scott, we have begun a series of lecture evenings at the Ice Base. After dinner most people carry on their work for a couple of hours or go for a walk out into the beautiful, sculpted sea ice rubble. 

But as the sun begins to set,  at around 10pm, everyone gathers once more in the mess tent, shedding down jackets and wooly hats, and sharing out mugs of tea.  We settle down to hear tales and wisdom from the eclectic group of individuals gathered here at the IceBase.