After passing the 85th meridian the last of the wildlife soon dissipated and was replaced with thick cold ice. Our advancement was slowed down by this thickness, slowing down the previously unstoppable oden. The chaos of the first sampling days and setting up the various labs settled, and the organised sampling commenced, even though some small hick-ups were (and are) unavoidable. In these harsh conditions we do not alone decide when to send down the sampling devices in the sea, only with permission from Mother Nature may we do so, there is so much that can potentially go wrong if the conditions are not good. But so far everything has gone fairly well, the starting days educated some of us in patience as the technical challenges were large and wide, sampling was sometimes delayed not hours but even so far as an entire day. But soon the tiredness born from waiting on samples was replaced with a more buoyant feeling of hope as the hardworking crew on board fixed one problem after another.
The samplings started to run more smoothly and the excitement of experiments soon ensued, the rigorous planning and preparation done before the cruise was now reflected in the organised work routine performed by the scientists on board. Each group ran their own tracks from sampling device to laboratory throughout the endless day, creating a highway of scientists carrying valuable water across the main deck of Oden, and if viewed from above it would surely resemble the coordinated lines formed by ants running to and from their hive.
Thoughts about missing home have rarely struck me as work is always on-going, but sometimes during the small moments in between work and sleep a moment of clarity arises, and I am able to fully appreciate the amazing situation we are in. Being far from loved ones leave a sense of emptiness, but this is emptiness is partly filled by the amazing group of people on board, and of course by the breathtaking view of the arctic, which somehow reminds me of a cold and inhospitable version of the Ã-land Alvar when inundated, with its many melt ponds strewn about.
A promise of reunion with friends and family at the end of it all awaits, like the return to a different life, one that we used to live. The days here are hard to tell apart, and their passing is dictated by the very strict meal hours on ship, rather than the setting and rising of the sun which we haven’t seen for quite some time. Still, so far away in this corner of the world I do not feel isolated, the spirit of the people on board is enough for a small country and is a welcome change from the almost forgotten isolation that most of us were confined to since the start of the pandemic. It feels like aeons ago now, but somehow family stays close to heart even when the mind is occupied, and anchors me to the life before.
In a few days we are expected to reach the North Pole, this fact has not quite fallen into place with me yet, perhaps the intense workload on board is keeping me from realising this, but every once in a while it does strike me and I cant help but smile a bit. All the better to share it with these wonderful people on the ship, and to tell all of it to the people I will visit once I return home.
Dennis
