In
the Melting Arctic, a Harrowing Account from a Stranded Ship
The
grounding of a research-cruise vessel in a remote polar region last
week was a reminder of the hazards of increased ship traffic in an
ice-free Arctic. Our correspondent was on board and reports on the
ordeal and the long, uncertain wait for rescue.
BY ED STRUZIK
29
August, 2018
On
the second day of a U.S. National Science Foundation-sponsored
expedition to the Arctic, we were sitting in the presentation room of
the 364-foot Russian cruise ship, Akademik
Ioffe,
about 45 miles north of the Inuit village of Kugaaruk.
We were
learning how to hop in and out of one of the Zodiacs that were to
periodically take us to shore and on the water over the next three
weeks to study how climate change has influenced the waters of the
Canadian Arctic Archipelago.
For
me and the group of scientists from the University of Rhode
Island’s Northwest
Passage Project whom
I was accompanying, this Russian research-cruise ship, with 102
passengers and 24 crew members on board, was a fallback vessel after
two ships that had been previously contracted pulled out on short
notice.
As
the briefing transitioned into ways of avoiding a dangerous polar
bear encounter, the Akademik
Ioffe suddenly
grounded to a violent halt. I knew that we were in a very remote area
of the Gulf of Boothia in Canada’s central Arctic, and I knew the
danger we were in if the hull of the ship had been breached in a
serious way.
Had the weather not worked in our favor and there been thick ice such as we sailed through earlier, it could have ended far worse.
Dave
Sinclair, expedition leader for the approximately 60 tourists on
board, did his best to calm us by attributing the loud bangs to the
sound of the ship hitting some ice. There was no breach of the hull,
he told us minutes after he had been briefed by the Russian captain.
We were not taking on water. The thing to do, he advised, was to go
to our cabins and wait for instructions.
Heading
up the stairs, I could see that the ship listed to one side, and I
suspected that things were worse than we were being told. Members of
the Russian crew were running around with life jackets on. Some were
heading to the dining room to seal the windows shut. Others were
climbing the stairs to man the lifeboats.
The seas were relatively
calm, but the boat was rocking back and forth, making grinding noises
as the captain tried unsuccessfully to reverse the main propulsion
and deploy the engine thrusters to power us off the shoal we were
sitting on.
Rumors
– of diesel spilling into the ocean, of a hole in the hull, of an
icebreaker being on its way – spread quickly, as the hours on the
shoal passed. The captain wasn’t communicating with us directly.
What little information was offered came from Sinclair, who did
wonders calming everyone’s nerves even though he had almost no idea
what was going to happen.
Research
scientists (left) wait to be rescued from the Akademik
Ioffe,
while passengers (right) put on life jackets. ED STRUZIK /
YALE E360
Fortunately,
the Russian sister ship, Akademik
Sergey Vavilov, came
to the rescue, as it happened to be in the area due to changes in its
routing. Still, it was a 16-hour wait before it arrived, and another
15 hours for it to take us back to Kugaaruk (population 933) where we
were to await planes that were being sent to take us home.
We
had been extremely lucky. Had the weather not worked in our favor and
had there been thick ice such as the kind we had sailed through hours
earlier, it could have ended up far worse.
Powerful
winds could have spun us around on that rock, possibly ripping a hole
into the hull that might have been far bigger than the one that was
presumably taking in the water we saw being pumped out of the ship.
Thick ice grinding up against the ship would have made it almost
impossible to get everyone off into lifeboats. It could have
perforated the fuel tanks, worsening what appeared to be a plume of
hydrocarbons floating on the surface alongside the ship. The Canadian
Coast Guard later reported no sign of a spill.
CLICK
IMAGE TO ENLARGE. The Akademik
Ioffe ran
aground just one day after the ship departed from Inuit village
of Kugaaruk. YALE
ENVIRONMENT 360 / GOOGLE EARTH
Only
10 percent of the Arctic Ocean in Canada, and less than 2 percent of
the Arctic Ocean in United States’ waters, is charted. Only
25 percent of the Canadian nautical charts are
deemed to be good. Some
of the U.S. charts go
back to the days of Captains Cook and Vancouver and the time when the
Russians owned Alaska.
Quick
rescues in the North American Arctic are virtually impossible because
there are no ports in Arctic Canada or Alaska, and icebreakers are
few and far between. The United States, for example, has just one
heavy icebreaker in operation in the region. Although Canada has a
few more, most of those are well on the road to being decommissioned.
It’s virtually impossible for them not to be many hours, if not
days, away from a ship in distress in an area spanning 1.7 million
square miles.
It
took nine hours for a Hercules aircraft to fly in from the Canadian
National Defence Joint Rescue Coordination Centre in Trenton,
Ontario, to our grounded ship, 12 hours for another smaller defense
plane to come in from Winnipeg and 20 hours for a Canadian Coast
Guard helicopter to arrive. Although a Coast Guard official
communicated that the icebreaker Amundsenwas
on hand when we disembarked, we never saw it.
There will inevitably be more accidents, if the challenges associated with future shipping in the Arctic are not addressed.
Arctic
shipping accidents such as this have happened several times before,
most notably in 1989 when the Exxon
Valdez,
grounded off the coast of Alaska, and in 2012 when the drilling
ship Kulluk grounded
near Ocean Bay, Sitkalidak Island, Alaska. Fortunately, none of the
143,000 gallons of low-sulfur diesel oil and 12,000 gallons of other
petroleum products spilled out of the Kulluk. The Exxon
Valdez,
of course, was another story. The resulting spill, the worst in U.S.
history, polluted over 1,100 miles of non-continuous coastline in
Alaska, making it the largest oil spill to date in U.S. waters.
An
environmental disaster in the Canadian Artic almost occurred in 2012
when the fuel tanker Nanny ran
aground on a shoal near Baker Lake. It was the fifth grounding that
had taken place since 2007 in an area where marine
investigators say there is little margin for error.
The
burgeoning polar cruise industry has also had its share of troubles.
In August 1996, the Hanseatic ran
aground in the Canadian Arctic, piercing two of the ship’s fuel
reservoirs. All 153 passengers were evacuated by helicopter. In 2010,
the Clipper
Adventurer ran
into shoal in Coronation Gulf. The 128 passengers and 69 crew members
were rescued. In both cases, favorable weather and ice conditions
prevented a disaster, just as it did in our case.
Early
in the expedition, the Akademik
Ioffeencountered
floes of thick sea ice. DONGLAI GONG
Although
a Canadian Coast Guard spokesperson said there had been no reports of
environmental damage from the grounding of the Akademik
Ioffe,we
could see an oily sheen covering the waters around the ship. Whether
it was simply chemicals in the bilge water that was being pumped out,
we couldn’t say. This is illegal in Alaskan waters, but is
perfectly legal in the Canadian Arctic.
There
will inevitably be more accidents if nothing is done to address the
challenges associated with future shipping in the Arctic.
The
rapid decline of Arctic sea ice is presenting cruise and cargo
shipping companies with even more commercial opportunities. The
seasonally ice-free ocean around Svalbard in Norway has been popular
with cruise ships for the better part of two decades. The number of
cruise voyages in the Canadian Arctic has more than doubled between
2005 and 2017. Exploitation of the Arctic’s resources will further
increase ship traffic, as start-up mines such as Baffinland at Mary
River on the north end of Baffin Island in Canada’s Arctic are
planning or already using ships to move their ore to market.
Evacuation
was done with Zodiacs on August 25, a rescue option that would not
have been possible had there been high winds and ice near the
ship. ED STRUZIK / YALE E360
As
for the cruise ships, most are relatively small like the one we were
on. But in 2016, Crystal Cruise’s luxury cruise ship –
the Crystal
Serenity –
may have been a sign of what’s to come when it transported 1,000
guests and 600 crew members through the Northwest Passage.
The
absence of charts and ports and the shortage of icebreakers is not
the only deficiency that is portending future disasters.
In
Canada and Alaska, cruise ships such as the Akademik
Ioffe do
not have to be equipped with forward-looking multi-beam sonar with
Bluetooth, which gives the ship’s pilot a wide-angle, 120-degree,
port-starboard view of the seafloor and water column. Had our ship
been equipped with this relatively inexpensive technology, I was told
by two experts who asked not to be identified, the master would
likely have spotted the shoal soon enough for the ship to be slowed
and steered away from the danger.
The expedition leader advised us at the outset of our voyage that our routing might change depending on how the ice was behaving.
Sea
ice is still a problem, perhaps even more so as it continues to
recede. Scientists
Alexandra Jahn and her colleagues made this point recently
when they concluded that the increasingly chaotic nature of the
climate system in the Arctic is making it difficult to predict how
sea ice is going to behave, as it did this summer. Two cruise
expeditions canceled their voyages because of the chaotic ice
conditions. Our cruise plan was changed at the last minute because
ice prevented our ship from getting into the original starting point
at Resolute Bay on Cornwallis Island. We launched instead from
Kugaaruk, which is several hundred miles south of the original
departure point. Sinclair advised at the outset that our routing
might change every nine hours or so depending on how the ice was
behaving.
It
was the second year in a row that the Arctic experienced these
uncertain ice conditions. In 2017, a scientific expedition to Hudson
Bay had to be canceled because of massive amounts of sea ice
streaming south from the High Arctic. A Canadian icebreaker was
needed to be on standby in case of emergencies off the coast of
Newfoundland and the Maritime provinces. A Canadian Coast Guard
official explained at the time that the
ice conditions were more treacherous than any seen before.
The
changing ice conditions are also making it more difficult to rely on
climatological technology to predict day-to-day and seasonal
environmental variability in the region. According to the World
Meteorological Association, which is one of the organizations
involved in the Year of Polar Prediction (2017-2019), the Arctic and
Antarctic are the world’s
most poorly observed regions when it comes to meteorology. Ship
captains cannot rely on forecasts that may or may not predict thick
fog or powerful storms days in advance.
Passengers aboard the Akademik Ioffe watch as a plane arrives from the Canadian National Defence Joint Rescue Coordination Centre in Ontario. It took nine hours for the plane to get to the grounded vessel. ED STRUZIK / YALE E360
In
the meantime, emergency response systems are not going to get much
better. Russia currently has 41 icebreakers and several new ones in
construction. By way of comparison, the U.S. has just one heavy
icebreaker in operation in the Arctic, the Polar
Star.
But the U.S. doubts that the Polar
Starwill
make it to 2023, when it is scheduled to be decommissioned. In the
meantime, the Coast Guard is
facing a $750 million cut to its budget,
part of a larger plan by the Trump administration to find $5.2
billion for stronger border and immigration controls. That likely
means that plans for a new icebreaker will be on indefinite hold.
Canada
will soon be getting a new heavy icebreaker and ice-capable patrol
ships. But once the new icebreaker comes on stream, one or more of
the others are likely to be decommissioned. Plans for constructing an
Arctic port at Nanisivik on Baffin Island continue to be advance
slowly.
When
we finally got to Kugaaruk, the winds had calmed, the clouds had
cleared, and the temperatures had risen to a level that made the
short Zodiac ride to shore a pleasant one. The Inuit and the Royal
Canadian Mounted Police were there to help us unload and to transport
those who needed a ride to the gravel airstrip. All the passengers
were appreciative, happy to be getting home soon. Few seemed to
realize just how close they had come to serious harm.
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