Conducting Marine Science in the Arctic - The Changing Arctic Environment: The Arctic Messenger - page 221

which the samples were incubated for a period of time after the introduction of carbon-14.
Light filters were used to mimic the under-ice light environment. It was not the best way
to do things, but it was remarkable that the results were in line with those from Alaska and
supported the growing appreciation of the important role of epontic production in the Arc-
tic marine food chain.
On one occasion in late April, we were using this gear close to the ice edge when the
skipper ordered us all back on the ship. Visibility was failing. A rising wind was catching
the ship and driving it and our attached ice floe towards open water. A radar deflector was
quickly set up to help us find and return to the same floe if the weather improved. We had
noticed a polar bear several times through the haze that afternoon, so the last items of gear
to be hauled on board were the gun and ammunition. David Gillis (the team member on
whom I relied most on that cruise) and I then released the anchor lines that held the ship to
the floe. However, the wind was so strong that we had no time to climb on board before the
ship was blown away from the floe. Several attempts were then made to reach us, but each
time, the strengthening wind kept us apart. Finally, it came in with such force that cracks
appeared all over the place and the floe split in half. For a few seconds, David and I were
separated until he jumped across the widening gulf. After a few minutes, we noticed that
the ship had fallen silent and was slowly drifting off. Someone came to the stern and yelled
“Engines quit!” It was not good news. We knew that the ship itself was their only option
to reach us and our floe was now sailing off into the increasingly rough open water. The
ship soon vanished into the chill mist. We began to wonder about that bear, the new cracks
beneath our feet and the waves that were starting to upset the equilibrium of our diminish-
ing floe. Fortunately, David had been wise to join my part of the floe because it had the
radar reflector on it. Although we could not see the ship, they knew exactly where we were.
After some hours of worsening weather and further loss of ice, that wonderfully handsome
profile of our ship emerged and picked us up at the first attempt. The next morning was
calm and had better visibility. The ship had drifted far back into the pack ice. Less than 500
metres away was our radar reflector. It was stoically sitting on a much smaller floe than the
one abandoned the previous evening.