(Greenland coastal glacier I photographed this summer)

More worrying news on the ice front. A study based on the analysis of millions of NASA satellite laser images has indicated that coastal ice in Greenland and Antarctica is thinning more extensively than expected. The biggest loss of ice is caused by glaciers speeding up when they flow into the sea, according to scientists from the British Antarctic Survey (BAS) and Bristol University. There is a clear pattern of glaciers thinning across large areas of coastline, sometimes extending hundreds of kilometres inland. The scientists think the cause is probably warm ocean currents reaching the coast and melting the glacier fronts.
Worryingly, the scientific community still does not have enough information to understand this fully and predict what impact it will have on sea level rise.
According to the study, 81 of 111 fast-moving glaciers in Greenland are thinning at twice the rate of slow-flowing ice at the same altitude. This is called “dynamic thinning”, which means loss of ice caused by a faster flow. Apparently, it is much more significant than people thought before. This fits with what scientists I talked to in Greenland a few weeks ago were saying.

Melting from below

Following the comments on the New York climate summit in the media is like surfing. Up you go on a wave of optimism, then down into the depths of almost-despair. “Barack Obama warns world of climate catastrophe”, “Obama disappoints environmentalists”, “China’s carbon pledge boosts hope of global climate deal”. My colleague Christina Bergmann, one of our US correspondents, opts for “The Chances for Copenhagen have risen again”. Her optimistic headline reflects Ban Ki Moon’s satisfaction about climate change being right up at the top of the agenda of the world’s leaders. Japan and China also give grounds for optimism, Japan with a clear pledge to reduce emissions by 25 percent by 2020, China with a message of strong intent, but no firm targets.
President Obama is clearly in a difficult position, trying to get backing at home for what would represent a dramatic change in policy. Still, given signs by the top emitters China and the USA, Japan and key emerging nation India that the importance of an effective Copenhagen deal is paramount, we have to be optimistic. As one of the Green candidates in Germany’s election (coming up this Sunday) said to me at an event last week, “we have no option”. The alternative is too awful to contemplate.

You can’t get much higher a level than this one, with UN Secretary-General holding his own climate summit. I was at a UNFCCC briefing ahead of this, and they see it as Ban Ki Moon trying to get the urgency of an ambitious Copenhagen deal across to the world’s leaders. There are high hopes the Chinese will push the US to action by announcing some far-reaching plans.
There’s some background here:“Skeptical Environmentalist” Björn Lomborg not keen on climate conferences
Why maybe we do need all these climate talks
A tough task for Ban Ki Moon

While I was waiting out by the methane measuring point for Jannik from Zackenberg’s “BioBasis” programme, I spotted the family of barnacle geese I photographed on a pond the other day, venturing out onto the river

It seems the name Barnacle Goose goes back to the Middle Ages. The migrating geese seemed to appear in northern Europe from nowhere every autumn, so people thought they came out of barnacles drifting ashore on the current. The Greenland birds breed here, then migrate through Iceland to northern Ireland and the Inner Hebrides. (The ones we see in Germany come from Russia and Gotland).

But today we were looking for Dunlin chicks. Jannik is the “resident” ornithologist here, spending the whole season monitoring birds (not only birds, but he is the bird expert), which involves a bird census, finding breeding pairs, nests, checking the eggs, checking the chicks, ringing birds and generally keeping track of bird developments. He’s having help with the sanderling population (small waders, more later when time allows) as there’s a visiting team of 3 from the Netherlands, following those. These hardy lads walk up to 30 km at a time to check up on nests and ring the birds. Jannick and I went off to check up on two dunlin nests which had been marked and where it should be time for the chicks to hatch. Dunlins are small waders who breed in Arctic regions

Their nests are small and not easy to find. Jannick has them marked with white sticks, and the rule is, walk 20 paces from marker towards the station radio mast :

We found the nest and shell, showing the chicks had hatched earlier than expected. Unfortunately, no sign of the chicks, so it’s possible they have been predated. The Arctic foxes and the skuas will have been on the hung for food, especially with the lack of lemmings this season.

Jannik and Lars, the Bio-Basis team, also count the barnacle geese moulting in a no-go area down by the water, (70 at present), the musk-oxen and Arctic hares, through a powerful telescope they take up to the roof of one of the huts.

I have just been up and seen 3 white Arctic hares on Zackenberg mountain. Looking the other way, we could see ice drifting in from sea.

I never thought I would come to love the howling icy Arctic wind. But it has one big advantage: It blows the mosquitoes away. It’s Sunday morning, and I came outside to drink my tea, since somebody had left windows open and there seemed to be more “grozzies” inside than out. Now a stormy wind has blown up, the strongest I’ve felt here so far, whipping up the dirt all around, lashing the station flags and sending the little weather station spinning crazy. I’m on the sheltered side of the hut, but it would be tough going along the mountain ridges at the moment.

I’m hoping it will reduce to moderate but keep blowing in time for today’s expeditions. Things are starting to blow around, I will have to retreat indoors. So far only the girls are up, except Lone. Sunday is the one day the cook gets off and can have a lie-in. Everybody else can do the same, except Julie. She has to go down to the river and check up on water levels, sediment content etc. at 8 every morning. Sarah is also on the go. She’s made her sandwiches to take down to her plots, where she is hoping to spend most of the day. But in this wind, she won’t be able to work there. Once since she’s been here, they had a storm like this all night, she tells me.

Sarah is measuring the respiration and photosynthesis of controlled plots between the station and the Sound. She waters some every week, to simulate the effect of the increased precipitation that is forecast to become normal in this region as the climate changes. The results will go into her Master’s thesis for Uni in Copenhagen. She has measurements taken here over the last 10 years to compare with. I visited Sarah to see how she works, down at the plots last night.

I’m going to go to the methane monitors with Julie again for some special measurements today. But first she has to bring in the co2 monitor, which is still playing up. She’s going to take it apart in the lab. You are very far away from anywhere here if anything goes wrong.

Meanwhile Philip, our logistics expert, has succeeded in repairing the back-up generator, which had somehow blown. This is a separate machine which can give the station emergency power in the event of a fire or other incident in the main generator hut. We certainly don’t need power for light at this time, most of the time we’re even ok for heat. But imagine what would happen to the electronic equipment and all those frozen biological samples of all sorts (!) – if we had no electricity for the fridges and freezers (not to mention the food supplies)…