Met Tower – Revisited

I think people were really inspired by the “Met Tower” I wrote about a few days ago, because a lot of people have asked lots of questions about it. So I spoke with Irina Repina, the lead scientist on the expedition for this work, and I wanted to give everyone a little more information about it. As a reminder, or for readers new to the blog, the Met Tower (“met” is short for “meteorological”) is meant to help us understand the interactions between the sea ice and the atmosphere. It measures temperature as well as wind speed and direction, using a sonic anemometer that measures wind speed in 3 dimensions. The idea is to measure the “turbulent flux” – in other words, the exchange of heat and momentum – at the boundary between the ice/ocean and the atmosphere. These measurements are very sensitive, and need to be very accurate, so you can imagine why it is more difficult to take these measurements on the ship. I can tell you firsthand that the ship is its own source heat, movement, and turbulence! So when there is a chance to get out on the ice, it is a special opportunity to use the Met Tower!

Ivan Gangnus checks the temperature, while Ksenia Artamonova and Arseniy Artamonov record notes by the Met Tower. Photo from Irina Repina
Ivan Gangnus checks the temperature, while Ksenia Artamonova and Arseniy Artamonov record notes by the Met Tower. Photo from Irina Repina

The reason why this is so important to understand is that the interaction at this boundary not only has local effects, but global effects as well, due to the global circulation of the atmosphere and oceans. In the Arctic, there are lots of different kinds of surfaces: open water (calm or stormy), solid ice (of different thicknesses and ages), melting ice, ice combined with open-water “leads,” etc. This makes for a really complex set of circumstances when trying to figure out how energy is exchanged between the atmosphere and the ocean. On one hand, the presence of sea ice impedes the heat exchange at the atmosphere-ocean boundary. On the other hand, the very presence of ice is determined by the intensity of that heat exchange. So the goal of the Met Tower is to get direct measurements of these turbulent fluxes which affect the entire atmosphere-ocean-ice system. So next time you look at one of those beautiful pictures of the Arctic that seems so calm and serene, think about all of this turbulence and complexity. Even though we can’t see it ourselves, the Met Tower helps us figure it out.

Irina (center) along with Arseniy Artamonov (left)and Sasha Chernokulsky, standing on the ice at the Met Tower, 300meters from the ship. Photo from Irina Repina
Irina (center) along with Arseniy Artamonov (left)and Sasha Chernokulsky, standing on the ice at the Met Tower, 300meters from the ship. Photo from Irina Repina

Try This!

A lot of the phenomena we see in the atmosphere have analogies in the ocean – because liquids and gases are both fluids. Winds and ocean currents are generated by heat differences across distance, and both have the effect of distributing heat. Try gently lowering a small container of hot, colored water (use food coloring) into a larger container of cold water. What happens? What do you think causes this effect?

Moorings – Outrageously Awesome

The Sun helped us recently celebrate the second-to-last mooring of our expedition. Lots of us went outside to enjoy a little bit of sunshine along with the amazing sight of lowering instruments down 2,700meters (more than 1.5miles) into the ocean. Here’s more about this outrageously awesome piece of science and engineering.

M9 Mooring

The photo shows the diagram of this M9 mooring. This diagram has been well-used, as you can see from the notes scribbled all over it (most of which are serial numbers of the components). This mooring was deployed in a location where the ocean floor has a pretty steep slope, and a couple things were adjusted to the whole structure to account for this. A heavier-than-usual anchor was lowered down as the base of the mooring (it’s about 850kg in water), and an extra “buoyancy support” element (the square yellow component in the diagram) will help raise the mooring out of the water when another expedition returns to retrieve it.

The mooring apparatus, about to be raised up to deploy the mooring instruments
The mooring apparatus, about to be raised up to deploy the mooring instruments

The two yellow cylinders in the diagram, between the anchor and the extra buoyancy support, are the “release assembly.” You can see the bottom of these two cylinders are joined by a “v” shaped link and ring. When another expedition returns to retrieve the mooring, they will “speak” to the release assembly with an acoustic signal, and one of those releases (the other is there as a back-up) will detach. The anchor will remain at the bottom, but the rest of the mooring cable and instruments will be lifted up out of the water, aided by the buoyancy components.

The anchor and the release assembly about to be lowered in the water
The anchor and the release assembly about to be lowered in the water

There are five different CTD (conductivity, temperature, depth) instruments on the mooring, at various depths, which will take these ongoing measurements of the water. There are also two “upward-looking” ADCPs (Acoustic Doppler Current Profiler), at roughly 450meters deep and 50meters deep, each of which will measure water currents between their location and the surface. The instruments in the diagram just below the largest yellow buoyancy sphere (the ISUS and ODO) will be taking measurements of nitrates and dissolved oxygen in the water, which will help scientists trace water masses throughout the Arctic. (We have put these instruments on three moorings at three different locations, all of which will take ongoing measurements until they are retrieved during a future expedition – and we have also been taking measurements of oxygen and nitrates throughout this expedition, every time we do a CTD cast). There is also an upward-looking sonar near the top of the mooring, which measures ice-depth at the surface.

Some of the instruments for the mooring; from bottom to top in the picture, you can see the location transponder (orange spheres), the ISUS instrument for measuring nitrates (black  cylinder), and the ADCP (the 4 orange disks on the white cylinder)
Some of the instruments for the mooring; from bottom to top in the picture, you can see the location transponder (orange spheres), the ISUS instrument for measuring nitrates (black cylinder), and the ADCP (the 4 orange disks on the white cylinder)

Just knowing our position when we deploy this mooring (82°N latitude, 97°E longitude) is not enough to locate it to retrieve it in the future. The ocean is huge (not to mention the fact that the area is sometimes ice-covered). Near the top of the mooring, still almost 50meters down, the location transponder will be able to send and receive signal from a ship, allowing the future expedition to more precisely locate and retrieve the mooring. Can you see why I described above the whole mooring process as “outrageously awesome?”

Watching the mooring operation from the ship’s heli-deck
Watching the mooring operation from the ship’s heli-deck

Post from a Scientist: “Arctic Rainbows”

Everybody should see a rainbow at least once in a lifetime. Usually we see it when it’s rainy and sunny at the same time. That’s because we see rainbows when light is refracted and reflected by water droplets. Refraction is when a light beam bends as it passes from one material to another. In this case, light is refracting between air and droplets of water. Since each color refracts by a different amount, the colors separate, forming a rainbow – the outer edge is red and the inner one is violet. The specific coloration and width of rainbows are always different, depending on weather conditions and the position of the Sun.

 In the Arctic regions, a “white” rainbow can be found. This is due to low temperature and therefore the small size of water droplets in clouds. Because of the small size of the water droplets, reflection of light plays a bigger part than refraction, which is why we don’t see the spectrum of colors. Usually, the polar rainbow is wide and nearly white (sometimes it might have a red brim). We were lucky to see a “white” rainbow last ship’s night!

I’ll end with a little science trick from my childhood (when I was 6 years old, I thought it was magic). You can make your own “pocket rainbow.” You need only sunlight and a crystal glass. Catch sunlight through the side of an empty glass, and then look into the glass to see the rainbow. In this case, the glass is acting like a prism, refracting (or bending) the light (in this case, even though the light is refracting, you won’t see the full color spectrum).

 – Irina Larkina

Photo from Irina Larkina
Photo from Irina Larkina

Polar Bear – Swimming!

Yesterday we had another moment of mass hysteria. Many of us were quietly working, as usual, in the common room where we have lectures and presentations. Something in Russian came over the intercom system, and one of the Russians in the room shouted: “polar bear!” Everyone put down their laptops, and ran – I mean SPRINTED – out of the room, through the dining hall, and out to the deck, with no thought of coats.

We have been seeing icebergs the last couple days, but not the big flat ice floes, so no one had been expecting to see a bear. And we went outside, it still looked as if there could not possibly be a bear. There was no ice! But looking in the water, there was a big, adorable, furry white head swimming nearby. He swam back and forth, seemingly curious about the ship, and then swam toward the back of the ship. And of course we all followed toward the stern as well. Everyone was smiling and happy, but there was also a look of fear and a little sadness on many people’s faces. Where was the ice? In what direction could he swim to get back to the ice? Rationally, we know that polar bears are classified as marine mammals and are capable of swimming for a day or more at a time. But that extent still seems extreme. So we all want to think that he was out for a swim and will happily swim back to ice that is just beyond the horizon. Look how amazing and beautiful he is!

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Post from a Scientist: “The Drama of Historical Exploration”

Hey guys! Lindsay asked my partner and me to write a post about our presentation. So I’m writing it. 🙂 Elena Khavina and I don’t have our own research projects yet, so we decided to give a presentation about geographical discoveries and exploration. The theme of our presentation was the First and the Second Kamchatska Expeditions, which were organized in the 18th century to compose a map of the Russian Empire, in accordance with an order from Peter the First. At the time, nobody knew if there was a passage between Asia and America, nor about the outline of the northern shore of Asia and the size of Siberia. In December 1724, Vitus Bering was appointed the chief of the First Kamchatka Expedition, which took place from 1725-1730. Over those five years, the Deomedes Islands, St. Lawrence Islands, and other points were discovered. The main results of this expedition were the first map of the eastern shore of Russian Asia, and actual proof of the existence of a passage between Asia and America (that was later named the Bering Strait, in honor of Bering).

Photo from Maria Parfenova and Elena Khavina
Photo from Maria Parfenova and Elena Khavina

In 1732, Anna the Empress ordered the mapping of the northern shore of the Empire to be continued, from Archangelsk (on the northwest coast of the Russian Empire) to the Bering passage. She also ordered that they reach the American continent to gain knowledge about it. The Second Kamchatka Expedition began the next year, with about 500 people taking part, including V. Bering, A. Chirikov, P. Lasinius, M. Shpanberg, G. Miller, S. Malygin, Ch. Laptev, D. Laptev and S. Cheluskin. The Second Kamchatska expedition was then divided into two parts: The Great Northern expedition and The Second Kamchatska expedition. The goal of The Great Northern expedition was to map the northern shore of the Russian Empire. The crew was divided into five squads, and each squad was responsible for describing a part of the shore. This resulted in the first “modern” map, created 1734-1742, of the northern shore, from Archangelsk to Bolshoy Baraniy Cape. Cheluskin Cape and many other points were discovered, despite of the facts that lots of people died of scurvy, and that ranks were reduced due to false accusations aimed at some commanders of the squads.

 The Second Kamchatska expedition was dramatic too. The ships were built in Ohotsk in 1737-1740. During this time, the crew mapped the shore of the Kamchatka peninsula and discovered Avacha Bay, where Petropavlovsk-Kamchtsky was founded. The expedition started on the 4th of June, 1741. Two boats left Avacha Bay and moved east, but on the 20th of June the ships lost each other in the fog. The first ship that was navigated by A. Chirikov, who reached America on the 15th of July. He sent all the boats to the shore but they didn’t return, so the ship started its way back, and on the 11th of October returned to Kamchatka. Bering and the second ship reached America on the 20th of July. Bering sent G. Steller ashore to get drinking water and to make their first description of American continent. The next day, the expedition started its way back, and on the 5th of November the crew of the ship saw land and exclaimed “Yahoo! Kamchatka is over there!” But they were mistaken! The ship was broken apart by waves on the rocks and only after that did the crew realize that it was actually a small uninhabited island. By this time, most of the crew were ill with scurvy. They built a winter camp, and the following spring built a new boat from the fragments of the old ship, and left for Kamchatka. On the 27th of August, 1742 they returned to Avacha Bay.

Photo from Maria Parfenova and Elena Khavina
Photo from Maria Parfenova and Elena Khavina

And what about Bering? He died on the 8th of December 1741 on the small island, which later was named after him. The main outcomes of this expedition were the first Russian knowledge about the American continent, and the first well-composed map of the northern and eastern shores of Russian Empire. People used this map for the next 200 years and named a lot of points after the commanders, chiefs and sailors of this expedition. So, this long story is really dramatic and sometimes sad, but unfortunately there was no other way to discover the Northeast Passage!

– Maria Parfenova

Maria, Photo from Elena Khavina
Maria, Photo from Elena Khavina

Post from a Scientist: “Waking Up to Glaciers”

At about 4am the other morning the ship started to slow down for a CTD station (salinity, temperature and depth measurements of the water column). We were stopping east of the Severnaya Zemlya islands for what was the last station of a section across the slope and along the shelf near the islands. A quick glimpse through the window resulted in an even quicker decision to put on clothes and rush to the deck, quietly so as not to wake up anyone sleeping in their cabins. But what waited outside was too amazing not to be shared: Icebergs, bergy bits, growlers, all around us. Even a glimpse of the islands. And sunshine! The quiet and calm of the morning combined with being still half asleep created an almost magical experience.

 Glacier ice, or “ice of land origin”, as it is formally known in ice identification nomenclature, floating in the ocean is classified into different categories depending on its size and shape. The more time the glacial ice remains in the ocean and is moved about by wind and waves, or pushed into other pieces, the more it cracks, crumbles, rots, or becomes smooth. There are names for many different forms and features of the ice. The smallest ones are called growlers (because that’s the sound they can make when colliding with a ship and also because sometimes they are just beneath the surface and go unseen until making contact); somewhat larger pieces are called bergy bits; and in order to be classified as an iceberg, glacier ice needs to stand more than 5 meters above sea-level and be at least 15m long. We have seen tabular, wedged and irregular bergs, and bergy bits that came in so many shapes, but that also might have to be classified as irregular.

 -Marika Marnela

Photo from Marika Marnela
Photo from Marika Marnela

In this photo, you can see just how many bergy bits and small bergs were afloat in the area where the ship stopped. The ice team leader onboard from the Arctic and Arctic Research Institute (AARI) in Russia identified the source of the ice to be from the northern and central islands of the Severnaya Zemlya archipelago, and said that most of the ice enters into the Laptev Sea to the east of the islands, rather than to the west into the Kara Sea.

Photo from Marika Marnela
Photo from Marika Marnela

Notice the diagonal dark stripes in the irregular bergy bit in this photo. Those lines are composed of very fine sediment from the island where this ice formed.  At its highest point, the ice is about 3 meters (9 feet) out of the water and it has been exposed to a lot of weathering (melting and aging) which now gives some areas a smooth surface.

Photo from Marika Marnela
Photo from Marika Marnela

The curious structure of the tabular berg which looks a bit like cauliflower or mangrove tree forest, is actually ice that is a couple of meters high (about 6 feet) and has been washed so long with waves that the weaker areas of ice have rotted away.

 The Canadian Ice Service has produced a helpful ice observation manual (for details MANICE: Manual of Standard Procedures for Observing and Reporting Ice Conditions) which included the attached figure 2.3 of different iceberg sizes along with references to common things like bicycles, stadiums and skyscrapers.

Figure from the MANICE Manual from the Canadian Ice Service
Figure from the MANICE Manual from the Canadian Ice Service

MANICE Manual from the Canadian Ice Service

Post from a Scientist: “Aerosols in the Arctic”

At this point in the cruise, many students are devoting their time to group projects. I am currently working with a sizeable group that is using a computer model called WRF to simulate the 2012 Arctic cyclone. I am familiar with the setup process, as well as the ensuing frustration when things don’t go smoothly, because I use a version of WRF in my own research. WRF is an atmospheric model, which simulates the dynamics (motions) of the atmosphere, as well as atmospheric “state” variables such as temperature and humidity. It can be used both for weather forecasting (the “W” and “F” in WRF) and for research (the “R” in WRF). It is similar in many respects to global climate models, yet it is smaller in scope, so a simulation may run for hours or days (instead of decades) and will usually only cover a region of Earth. However, this also enables us to run the model with a higher resolution (meaning smaller grid boxes), so that it may simulate atmospheric phenomena in more detail. I use a slightly different version of the model (WRF-CHEM) in my research. WRF-CHEM couples the effects of aerosols and other gas chemistry to the radiation and cloud physics routines from the standard WRF model. So I can use that to investigate the effects of aerosols on clouds and radiation in the Arctic. As for our group on this expedition, we will use output from the standard version of WRF to run a sea ice model called LIM3, which is used by one of our group members (Antoine) in his own research. Hopefully, we will gain some interesting insights into the effects of different wind and temperature forcings on sea ice during Arctic storms.

 Because our project doesn’t involve going outside, it sometimes feels like I’m just working in an office. A quick look out the window reminds me that yes, we’re still on a boat in the Arctic Ocean. But I also feel it is important to spend some time outside. It isn’t always cloudy like it was in the first part of the trip, and the sight of the Sun reflecting off the sea ice is quite memorable.

 – Eric Stofferahn

Photo from Eric Stofferahn
Photo from Eric Stofferahn

The Snow-Woman and the Polar Bears

This is something that someone could write a story about. I was walking around the deck yesterday, to get some fresh air and check out the latest cast of the CTD (conductivity, temperature, depth) rosette instrument into the water, which will allow scientists to better understand the conditions of the ocean from the surface to the seafloor. After seeing this amazing feat of science and technology, I came across a different kind of artistic handiwork. On some crates on the heli-deck, with the Sun in the sky in the background, was a mama and baby polar bear watching over a snow-woman (I know this from later talking to the artists). That is just begging for a story to be written about it!

The Science: The CTD rosette below the surface of the water, and continuing downward
The Science: The CTD rosette below the surface of the water, and continuing downward
The Art: Alena shaking the Snow-woman’s hand, and Meri giving the mama polar bear a pat on the head
The Art: Alena shaking the Snow-woman’s hand, and Meri giving the mama polar bear a pat on the head

Post from a Scientist: “The White Rainbow of Research”

Although my bachelor’s and master’s degrees are in mathematics, I have a deep fascination with climate, wildlife and the environment, and I really like to apply my math knowledge and skills to study climate dynamics in the real world. I hope the research I’m doing will give some insight into the changes that are going on right now in our Earth’s climate, and I’m happy I work in a field that gives me the feeling I’m doing something good for the world.

 Currently I am a graduate student in the Climate Dynamics PhD Program at George Mason University in Fairfax, Virginia (USA). Under the supervision of Prof. Edwin K. Schneider, my dissertation investigates several aspects associated with the 20th century variability of the North Atlantic (both forced and natural variability). Using climate model experiments, we study how temperature oscillations in the North Atlantic (on multi-decade time scales) are affected by the interaction between external forcing sources (like the Sun or human effects) and internally generated weather noise (anything that appears in climate models or observations that can’t be predicted).

Photo from Ioana Colfescu
Photo from Ioana Colfescu

Our work is important because when you make weather predictions, you want to know how much you can predict, and how much is due to “noise,” therefore can’t be predicted. Also, recent studies show the North Atlantic Ocean and Arctic Ocean are linked, via water exchanges through the Fram Strait, and through atmospheric transport from middle to high latitudes. Therefore, the work we’re doing is also important in order to better understand the link between the Arctic and North Atlantic, as well as to gain insight into the future of the Arctic.

Photo from Ioana Colfescu
Photo from Ioana Colfescu

Last but not least – last night at 2am, when the sun was low in the sky, somewhere in the Arctic Ocean, unexpectedly from the grey thick fog I saw a shining white rainbow and a field of icebergs. As it grew stronger and brighter I realized that this encompasses really how amazing the process of doing research is for me – you have never seen it before, it is beautiful, magical, and unexpected, and it keeps you curious and intrigued about what you see, and least but not last – although sometimes it might make no sense for others (like a white rainbow in the middle of a foggy day/night), it gives you a beautiful feeling of accomplishment because it is unique and brings unexpected results!

Photo from Ioana Colfescu
Photo from Ioana Colfescu

– Ioana Colfescu

Cloud Obs

Most days here in the Arctic have been cloudy, so it’s exciting whenever we see the Sun peek from behind the clouds – and rare sunny days have caused pure glee. But we don’t just say “cloudy,” “partly cloudy,” or “sunny,” like on the news. The Arctic climate depends on the whole system, which includes the atmosphere, ocean, and sea ice – and how all these things affect each other. So it’s vital that we have detailed observations of what the atmosphere is doing. Sasha Chernokulsky has been leading the cloud observations, or “cloud obs,” on the expedition, and several of the Summer School students are working with him to learn the process.

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Step 1: Go out on the top deck to get a full 360° view of the sky. This is where the experience comes in – you identify cloud type (cumulus, stratus, cirrus, or all the combinations of those, like stratocumulus, cumulocirrus, etc), and how much sky is covered by that cloud type on a scale of 0 to 10; 10 being full-sky coverage. (This is the standard Russian scale; according to the World Meteorological Organization, the scale is 0 to 8.) On this day, Irina and I were with Sasha out on the deck. Sasha explained that observations around the horizon are not reliable, so here we officially observed “total coverage” of flat layers of clouds with some rounded feature details (type: stratocumulus, scale: 10).

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Step 2: Record your observations back in the Flight Tower (it’s a pretty sweet office, or lab, with a view of the ocean and the ship’s heli-deck). Make notes of cloud type, cloud coverage from 0 to 10, degree of visible Sun from N (not visible) to 2 (fully visible disk), and cloud height, as measured by the ceilometer. (This sends a laser upward, which reflects back down off the clouds. We know the speed of light, and we measure the time it takes, so we can calculate the height of clouds.)

The “ceiling” of clouds today; in the morning were middle level altocumulus, later lots of low level stratocumulus, and Sasha is pointing to a period of fog
The “ceiling” of clouds today; in the morning were middle level altocumulus, later lots of low level stratocumulus, and Sasha is pointing to a period of fog
The white instrument in the foreground is the ceilometer
The white instrument in the foreground is the ceilometer

Step 3: Come back in 1 hour, and repeat!