Antarctica: Why are we here again?

The ship’s roll reaches 19° and everything falls off the desk, nearly followed by me off my chair if it weren’t for an evasive leap to one side. My roommate wakes with a start as the curtains around his bed have flung themselves open. “What are you doing?” he asks, in a confused state. Aside from the fact that everything falling off the desk was the weather’s fault, not mine, his question is a good one.

What are a team of 20 scientists, mostly from the UK, doing out here in the Southern Ocean? Surely there’s somewhere closer to home we could measure the sea. The main aim of this research cruise is to understand the process of deep water formation around Antarctica. First, let me briefly explain what deep water formation is and why it’s important in about 300 words. To understand this, the most important thing to remember is that water becomes denser when it is colder and/or when it is saltier. I think they teach that in GCSE science; if they don’t, they should.

Deep water formation

Antarctica is pretty cold, obviously. Where we are now, the sea temperature is around 1 °C. If we were to go further south or wait until winter, the sea will approach its freezing point of around -2 °C, forming sea ice. That’s a little colder than normal water, which freezes at 0 °C, because the sea is salty. However, when the sea freezes to form sea ice, the salt from the water is not incorporated into the ice – the salt that was in the sea water is left behind, making the remaining water a little bit saltier. As a result, the water close to the sea ice edge is both cold and salty compared to the rest of the world’s oceans, and therefore is denser than most of the rest of the world’s oceans. Dense water sinks below less dense water, and so the deepest water at the bottom of the oceans around the world all comes from around Antarctica.

Southern Ocean sea ice
Sea ice drifting close to the tip of the Antarctic Peninsula

When the water is at the surface of the sea, it can absorb heat and gases, including carbon dioxide, from the atmosphere. When deep water formation occurs, this heat and carbon dioxide can be drawn down into the depths of ocean, where it will stay for 1000 years or so. The research cruise I am on now wants to measure the amount of deep water formation occurring so we can better understand how much heat and carbon dioxide is being taken up by the ocean, which helps understand how much the climate will change in the future with global warming. That’s why we are here, basically, instead of the Bristol Channel.

Chlorofluorocarbons

Our team, based at the University of Exeter, are specifically measuring CFCs in the water. CFCs (chlorofluorocarbons) are manmade gases that were used for many industrial and commercial processes for a few decades before people realised they were destroying ozone in the atmosphere. This was creating a hole in the Earth’s ozone layer in the stratosphere over Antarctica and the Southern Hemisphere. Ozone is important for absorbing some of the Sun’s strong and damaging ultraviolet radiation before it reaches the Earth’s surface. Excessive ultraviolet radiation causes sunburn and skin cancer in humans, so people were concerned about the ozone hole when it was discovered in the 1980s. As a result, all nations of the world agreed the Montreal Protocol to stop producing CFCs that were destroying the ozone layer. Although this was a geopolitical and diplomatic success story, the ozone hole is only slowly showing signs of recovering and some CFCs still seem to be increasing (presumably suggesting some illegal production of them still occurs). However, luckily the ozone hole is no longer getting bigger and it is mostly contained to the very high Southern Hemisphere. Don’t worry, I brought plenty of factor 50 for my pasty Irish skin.

The reason we are measuring CFCs, however, is not actually to understand what they are doing to the ozone layer. We care about CFCs because they are manmade gases that are not naturally found in the atmosphere or ocean. This allows them to be used to trace ocean circulation and processes such as deep water formation. Let me explain how.

Jetsam

Since setting off from the Falklands five weeks ago, we have seen two manmade things: a ship on the horizon and some rusty metal oil barrels floating around amongst a heavy scattering of icebergs. The ship was a fishing boat, not far from the Falklands or Punta Arenas, so was not too surprising. The oil barrels however, were a bit more unexpected. They were floating right in the middle of the Weddell Sea, almost as far from civilisation as they could be. There were at least four of them, however they weren’t lashed together like some sort of raft made by Tom Hanks, they were all floating individually within a few hours steam of each other.

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Oil barrel floating in the Weddell Sea, originally dumped around 6,000 km away (image credit: Hugh Venables, BAS)

The most curious thing about these barrels, however, is that when we were able to zoom in on a photo taken of one with a camera with a good telephoto lens, we could see their origin. They had writing and the branding from Operation Deepfreeze, a US mission to set up an Antarctic base in the Ross Sea in the 1950s. After initially being surprised at seeing any litter in the pristine Southern Ocean, we had to question how these barrels got here. The Ross Sea is on the entire other side of the Antarctic continent, around 6,000 km away by sea.

The Operation Deepfreeze base was built on the Ross Ice Shelf. This is thick ice that has flown out from the glaciers on land to create an area the size of France floating over the Ross Sea. Although this ice is very thick and reasonably slow moving, it is not permanent and does break off from time to time to form huge icebergs. The same process has formed some icebergs that have made the news recently, including one berg a quarter of the size of Wales and a potential berg break off that is threatening to take the British Antarctic Survey’s Halley research station with it. Well, presumably the old dumping ground from Operation Deepfreeze has at some stage broken off from the Ross Ice Shelf, floated halfway around the Southern Ocean carried by the Antarctic Circumpolar Current and been taken into the Weddell Sea gyre, where it melted and broke up, scattering all the rubbish into the Weddell Sea.

Just like these oil barrels can be used to trace how the ocean’s surface currents circulate (a similar story involves a spilt shipping container of rubber ducks in the Pacific Ocean in 1992), looking at where manmade gases such as CFCs end up in the deep ocean can tell us how the deep water formation takes water from the surface to depth. To measure the CFCs, we first take samples using a probe known as a CTD (which stands for Conductivity Temperature Depth). This probe has 24 bottles on it as well as instruments for measuring of salinity, temperature and other water properties. The probe is lowered to the bottom of the ocean (which around here can be more than 6 km deep) and as it is brought back up to the surface, the 24 bottles are closed at different depths. When the CTD arrives back on the ship’s deck, we then have samples of water from 24 depths through the ocean at that particular location. Over the course of the cruise, we will be carrying out around 100 CTDs.

CTD sunset
Sampling using the CTD (lowered by winch off the side of the ship) continues morning, noon and night, meaning we work 12 hour shifts

With the water brought up in the bottles, our team takes a 500 ml sample from each and we store them in a walk-in fridge on the ship. We then analyse one sample at a time, which takes about 20 minutes using a custom-built machine that strips all the gases out of the water and calculates the amount of CFCs it contains. This setup for measuring CFCs is in its own portable lab, built in a shipping container that it strapped onto the aft deck of the James Clark Ross. While it’s pretty time-consuming running 100 CTDs with 24 bottles each taking 20 minutes (I calculate that to be more than 33 days of continually running the machine, assuming no delays) at least we have a good view from our container out over the wildlife and icebergs of the Southern Ocean.

JCR container whale watching
Our CFC lab inside a shipping container, strapped onto the aft deck, as we sail by the South Orkney Islands

Other science

Besides our team measuring CFCs, other scientists are also using the water from the CTD to analyse oxygen isotopes, nutrient content, pH and microbes. When the CTD comes on deck, there is usually a bit of a mad scramble as everyone gets water for their own analysis, with a strict pecking order as who gets to take their water first. For maximum inconvenience, usually the CTD comes up just before dinner or lunch, just to make sampling that little bit more frantic.

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Taking water samples for analysis from the 24 bottles on the CTD once it is back on deck (image credit: Charel Wohl, PML)

As well as measuring water from depth using the CTD, other scientists on the ship also continually measure the air and surface sea water as we sail. The air measurements, taken from the very front of the ship so not to get contaminated by exhaust or air conditioning fumes, must be measuring some of the cleanest air in the world. It’s pretty nice to stand up there and breathe it in, although it’s often accompanied by a blizzard of snow and biting wind, which makes the experience slightly less enjoyable.

We also have deployed some floats that will continue to measure the salinity and temperature of the sea here for the next five years or so. Using a gas bladder, these floats can adjust their density so they rise and sink through the ocean, measuring continually as they go. Every time these floats get back to the surface, they send their data back via a satellite connection. Although they don’t measure as much stuff as the scientists on the ship (for example, they don’t measure CFCs), they will be here all year round so keep making measurements through the winter. The ship on the other hand will have to retreat from the sea ice before the winter sets in, in case we end up repeating Shackleton’s antics with the Endurance. Which is fine with me because, interesting as it is, I don’t really fancy a further 6 months down here in the dark.

JCR float launch 2
A float being deployed, which will continue to make measurements through the winter and for years after we leave

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This blog is part of a blog series from Antarctica by Alan Kennedy-Asser, who has recently completed his PhD at the University of Bristol. This blog has been republished with kind permission from Alan. View the original blog. You can follow Alan on Twitter @EzekielBoom.

Alan Kennedy-Asser

Read part one of Alan’s Antarctica blog series – Antarctica: Ship life
Read part two of Alan’s Antarctica blog series – Antarctica: Why are we here again?
Read part three of Alan’s Antarcica blog series: Antarctica: Looking back

Antarctica: Ship life

The RRS James Clark Ross docked in the Falkland Islands

Blinking blurry eyes, I crack open the curtains and gaze out into the bright light of a new day. A hulking white and blue iceberg gazes back at me. Even after a broken night’s sleep being shunted from one side of my bunk to the other as the ship bounces through swell, that still makes a rewarding start to each day. Through an unexpected turn of events, I’ve found myself on the British Antarctic Survey’s RRS James Clark Ross, on a seven-week long research cruise helping researchers from the University of Exeter take samples and measure CFCs in the Weddell Sea. Having just handed in my PhD thesis – after four years of studying and researching Antarctic climate and hearing the question “do you get to go to Antarctica?” countless times – the opportunity to help out on this cruise was too good an opportunity to pass up. Life on a ship gives you plenty of time to think (and write), but I promise to keep these musings brief in three posts: ship life; the science and why we’re here; and how the real thing compares to a PhD. 
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This is my first experience of life on a ship. Previously, my most extensive experience of boat life was the eight hours on the Stena Line from Liverpool to Belfast, so I shall use that as my reference frame. Stena Line regularly ask you to fill out feedback forms and rate your experience to have the chance to win back the cost of your trip, so I shall do the same here (although as usual I don’t expect to win anything).

How did you find the booking procedure?

Stena Line have a fast and efficient website for making and managing bookings. Signing up for the research cruise was also pretty straight forward, although that was likely aided by me having done a PhD in Antarctic-related science and knowing someone at the British Antarctic Survey (BAS) who forwarded me the advert. I emailed the lead scientist from Exeter saying I was interested, we had a chat on Skype then I had to confirm that my PhD supervisors at Bristol were happy for me to go.

Generally, however, beyond that point there was a bit more faff than booking the Stena Line. BAS require quite a few forms filling out, some of which require a bit more homework, including passing a medical examination and a sea survival course. The authentic personal sea survival certificate had to be presented on getting on the boat before sailing. In contrast, the Stena Line rarely even ask for ID (although I suppose this might change after Brexit).

Stena Line: 5/5
James Clark Ross: 3/5

How did you find the check-in procedure?

The check-in for the Stena is remarkably simple, and as mentioned they rarely even ask for ID. Getting onto the James Clark Ross was logistically more complicated, requiring flights from Heathrow to Madrid, Madrid to Santiago in Chile, and Santiago to Punta Arenas. Although this journey took more than 24 hours, I still preferred it to driving in the rain up the M5 and M6 from Bristol, as I got free food and could watch films. Punta Arenas is also nicer than Birkenhead and I found the language barrier easier to overcome in Chile (Scouse can be very confusing at times).

Stena Line: 3/5
James Clark Ross: 4/5

Exploring the Magellanic forest above Punta Arenas

How did you find the cabins (if applicable)?

Getting a cabin on the Stena Line is not necessary, particularly if travelling during the day time sailing. The last time I travelled on the night time crossing, however, the cabin was not overly satisfactory with uncomfortable beds, an unclean bathroom and a broken soap dispenser. Stena customer services subsequently refunded the cost of the cabin. On the James Clark Ross, the cabins are slightly smaller than the Stena Line, however, there is ample storage space, the beds are pretty comfortable and there are privacy curtains for each bunk, which is good when you are on slightly different work shifts to your roommate. The biggest complaint about the James Clark Ross is that it makes many strange noises and rocks a lot more in the heavy weather, which can keep you up a lot of the night. These noises include a high-pitched wail which is either the stabiliser system or sirens luring us to our watery graves. The latter seems more likely.

Stena Line: 1/5
James Clark Ross: 3/5

How did you find the food onboard?

The Stena’s Met Grill is renowned for its fried breakfast and hearty lunch and dinner menu. The portion sizes are good, however, the prices are also a bit steep. On the James Clark Ross, three square meals a day are available (including midnight dinner service for those on night shifts), with lunch and dinner both offering 3+ courses. Because of how my shift patterns work out, it doesn’t make sense to get up for breakfast, so I just eat a 3-course lunch and dinner each day. Remarkably, over 4 weeks since we left, there is still fresh fruit and some salad on the go. The variety has been good, and they also have included some of the classics off the Stena Line menu, including fish and chips (most Fridays), curry (every Saturday) and Swedish meatballs. Although I have also had Swedish meatballs on the Stena, I have never tried authentic (Ikea) Swedish meatballs to know which is closer to the real deal.

Stena Line: 4/5
James Clark Ross: 5/5

How did you find the onboard shopping?

The shop onboard the Stena Line is pretty awful. They sell head phones if you forgot yours, which is about the only thing I have ever bought from it. They also sell some magazines and over-priced toys in case you didn’t realise the crossing was 8 hours and find yourself going slightly insane. The shop on the James Clark Ross, called the bond, is stocked with James Clark Ross branded clothing, toiletries, chocolate bars and some odds and ends like postcards and plaques. Unfortunately, as the ship is nearing the end of its working life for BAS, being replaced next year by the RRS Sir David Attenborough (of Boaty McBoatface fame), none of the branded clothing is being restocked. That means the only things that are left are in sizes XXL or age 7-8, neither of which are much use to me.

Stena Line: 1/5
James Clark Ross: 1/5

How did you find the onboard entertainment and facilities?

Both ships have a bar. The James Clark Ross bar is extremely cheap, however, many of the beers are about six months past their best before dates, which can result in ‘bowel roulette’ the following day. A worthwhile sacrifice if you’re unemployed like me. The lounge area is remarkably similar between both boats and is comfortable enough. The internet connection is much better on the Stena, although they possibly harvest your personal data in the process of providing it. On the James Clark Ross, they have to commit some of the internet to facilitate the science (boring), so the bandwidth for personal connections is not as strong.

Besides the gambling machines, the Stena Line’s main attraction is the cinema, which can be good if they have a decent film being shown. On the James Clark Ross, although they do not have a dedicated cinema room, they have a huge selection of DVDs and an endless supply of films available on people’s laptops which can all be put through a projector. There are also loads of board games and a few musical instruments onboard too, which are nice to have a jam on and facilitated a St Patrick’s Day gig and ceilidh dance. Although the James Clark Ross has a greater range of entertainment available, the Stena Line only has to keep you amused for 8 hours, not 7 weeks, so this one is a tight run context. Luckily when you have to work 12 hour shifts, you don’t have much time for entertainment.

Stena Line: 3/5
James Clark Ross: 4/5

St Patrick’s Day decorations in the bar

Would you recommend this crossing to a friend?

Usually my answer to this is ‘yes’ for the Stena Line. It’s a handy way of getting to England from Belfast, saving the drive through North Wales and up from Dublin. Admittedly there’s not much to see in the Irish Sea except the odd shearwater and the Isle of Mann, but generally the crossing is smooth because of the size of the ship (around 185m long) even when the weather is bad. On the James Clark Ross, the research cruise route very much agrees with the old saying ‘The adventure is in the journey, not the destination’. We are analysing a transect through the Southern Ocean and Weddell Sea and end at 57.5°S, 30°E, which is precisely in the middle of nowhere (go ahead and look it up on Google Maps). Although we don’t end anywhere in particular, the route has been spectacular at times: we’ve sailed past a number of sub-Antarctic islands, countless colossal icebergs, seen penguins on land, in the sea and on ice, had dolphins, fin whales, and humpbacks right by the ship (the latter breaching dramatically at times) and had regular, effortless fly-bys from wandering albatrosses and other seabirds great and small. The weather has been mixed and as the ship is 100m long it feels the swell a bit more than the Stena, however, the seas so far have been much more merciful than I had expected.

Humpbacks taking a breath, Coronation Island, South Orkneys

As exciting as it is to see the Isle of Mann and the Mourne Mountains, on the whole, I would say Antarctica just about tops the Irish Sea. Sorry Stena Line. Although, for health and safety reasons I’m sure the crew of the Stena Mersey are happy enough to not have to dodge all of these icebergs.

Stena Line: 4/5
James Clark Ross: 5/5

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This blog is part of a blog series from Antarctica by Alan Kennedy-Asser, who has recently completed his PhD at the University of Bristol. This blog has been republished with kind permission from Alan. View the original blog. You can follow Alan on Twitter @EzekielBoom.

Alan Kennedy-Asser

Read part one of Alan’s Antarctica blog series – Antarctica: Ship life
Read part two of Alan’s Antarctica blog series – Antarctica: Why are we here again?
Read part three of Alan’s Antarcica blog series: Antarctica: Looking back

Kyoto-Bristol-Heidelberg workshop: Novel frontiers in botany

Botany is an ancient field of science and often has an (incorrect!) reputation for being outdated. The recent plant sciences workshop ‘Novel Frontiers in Botany’ shook off that image by bringing together researchers from Kyoto University, Heidelberg University and the University of Bristol to discuss their cutting edge research and form exciting new collaborations.

The workshop, held in March at Kyoto University, was part of an ongoing strategic partnership between the three Universities and their botanic gardens. It built on previous plant science meetings of the partner institutions, which have already led to ongoing international research collaborations. The plant biology research interests of the three universities, whilst overlapping, incorporate different techniques and ideas, so by working together we can synergistically accelerate plant sciences research across the partnership.

Student-led success

One of the highlights of the meeting was its student-led focus. A team of graduate student organisers, led by PhD student Yumiko Sakai, Kyoto University, designed a programme of primarily short (15 minute) talks given by graduate students and post-docs, which was key to ensuring a wide range of subject areas could be included, from molecules to ecosystems, cell biology to phylogenetics.

I think the student-led aspect encouraged more discussion too; instead of a complete story presented by professors, the speakers typically presented unfinished work, which meant attendees of the workshop gave feedback and suggested potential future directions. Graduate students and post-docs perform most of the experiments that underpin academic research, as well as being the future of plant science research, so it was great to learn new techniques and ideas from each other, as well as building our professional networks and the international research profiles of the three universities. Daily poster sessions and a number of excursions certainly helped to get the group communicating, although I’m not sure how much science was discussed at our trip to a local karaoke bar!

Several potential new collaborations have already come out of the workshop, which highlights its success. PhD student organiser Yumiko Sakai summed up the meeting, “Making new friends in our research field was a wonderful experience! Developing this student-led workshop will unite the young people that undertake frontier research”.

This meeting was supported by funding from the Kyoto University’s Supporting Program for Interaction-based Initiative Team Studies (SPIRITS) and from the University of Bristol’s Lady Emily Smyth Agricultural Research Station (LESARS).

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This blog is written by Cabot Institute member Sarah Jose, Biological Sciences, University of Bristol.

 

Sarah Jose