Out in the cold

There are no two ways about it. We have been caught napping.

Not Science Lite…the commonplace nature of that little enterprise hardly warrants mention. No, it is the Country that has been caught napping.

And we are not talking Brexit here – that, surely, has enough column inches – but rather polar research. Surprising perhaps; this time last year the nation was so confident Britannia ruled the polar waves we grew drunk on ‘Boaty McBoatface’ smugness.

Whilst NERC and the British Antarctic Survey decided not to bow to social media pressure – deeming this an unsuitable name for their brand spanking new £200 million polar research ship – there was a palpable sense in the air that we could, well, afford such irreverence. This was to be an advanced piece of equipment taking scientists into harm’s way to gather data about the most vulnerable parts of our fragile planet – literally a flagship of our scientific endeavour. We had earnt, surely, the right to fluff our feathers a little with some great British whimsy over her name?

All very well and good, but whilst we were occupied with nomenclature – we missed a trick. Those pristinely-logical Germans had come up with an incredible way of transporting scientists to the North Pole. In a strong field of unusual ways to find one’s self at the top of the World – including being on, in, or behind almost every vehicle imaginable – their’s has to be the most surprising: They plan to get there by not moving at all.

In two years’ time, the German research vessel Polarstern (_yawn, stretch_ boring name right?...just saying) will depart for the East Siberian Sea, where it will perform a manoeuvre less boisterous than the crew of an icebreaker is perhaps used to. Rather than merrily smashing its way through the Arctic ice, the engines will be switched off, and the ship will quietly, and without fuss, become frozen solid in ice. This is to be icebreaker ballet.

It will then be at the mercy of the Arctic drift – as the crew hope (hope…HOPE!) it’ll take them across the central Arctic and the pole. Presumably crossed fingers are rarely the central navigational method on the bridge of high-end research vessels – but when travelling by ice, uncertainty has to be embraced.

“Where we go will depend entirely on how the ice drifts,” says, a remarkably pragmatic, Professor Markus Rex, leader of the project – named MOSAiC. “That’s an aspect we simply have to accept; we might not always like where it takes us, but like it or not, that’s where we’re going,” Well, quite. But their amble across the arctic won’t all be increasingly irksome card games, scurvy and long glances at that last tin of spam…far from it. The brains of the operation – the Alfred Wegener Institute, Helmholtz Centre for Polar and Marine Research (AWI) – intend to hoof the expedition’s huge compliment of scientists and equipment onto the ice to explore the Arctic climate. Indeed, they will set up an entire network – no, an Armada – of stations in a 50km radius around the Polarstern to do so more comprehensively than ever before.

If all goes as planned, in 2020 they’ll emerge from the ice again somewhere between Svalbard and Greenland clutching an incredible understanding of the complex interplay between ocean, ice, atmosphere and ecosystem. Oh, and krill...no kidding. Markus Rex again: “What do the krill do under the ice in winter? That’s yet another question we still can’t clearly answer.”

Good point Markus. What do they do? It turns out we know krill and plankton spend the winter under the Arctic ice, to emerge again in spring as large blooms – but not what they get up to while under there. We can only assume the Polarstern will be greeted with a million awkward shrimpy-smiles as they stumble across the mother of all ice-based crustacean parties.

When it comes to scientific expeditions like this, it’s easy to imagine the days of jeopardy are over. That the biggest risk is a spot of homesickness and some dodgy mobile phone coverage, but the truth is actual lives are stake here. Let us hope that none of the expedition feels compelled to announce a long and sombre walk.