6:20 am (B.C. time) / 8:20 am (Winnipeg time)

Wednesday, September 30, 2015

Onboard Air Canada flight from Winnipeg to Toronto

I’ve lost track of time. It doesn’t mean anything now. We’ll be in Toronto soon, then Quebec, and it will change again.

The airhostess just came past and gave me a TINY Styrofoam cup of tea. I sat it on the armrest while I wrestled with the little table. It trembled, back and forth, and I watched it for a few minutes to see if it would topple over. It didn’t, but I decided that just watching wasn’t a good guarantee of security, so I held it in one hand. It wibbled and wobbled, but I nearly had the table out. Suddenly, it steadied. The man next to me, in the very nice suit (the kind of man I only ever see on airplanes), was gently holding the cup. I finally pulled the table out of the armrest. It was a bit sticky, but, at that point, I couldn’t backtrack.

I am very excited, and a bit scared, and moments like that have calmed me. I’m also listening to a playlist that Arianna and I made together, and its full of sweet, folksy songs that make me chill (dude).

Right now, I am fairly sure we are flying over the Great Lakes. The blue bellow us is vast and completely smooth. The ocean is always moving, always going somewhere. This lake is still, although I can’t see the whole parameter. The shore that I can see is deep green broken by tiny rivers. I tried to take a picture for Mr. Demerse’s Geography class, but I couldn’t get my camera out quickly enough. I think the man next to me is getting tired of me rummaging through my many bags. He’s trying to sleep. I probably should too – my under eyes are the size of orange segments. I must tell you about the trip so far though!

            I’ll start at the beginning then, Ok?

On Monday morning, I threw my Schools on Board bag into the truck, waved to my mum, sleeping Kellen and our house, windows glowing in the dawn dark. Dad and I got the first ferry to Campbell River. The sky was clear, and Dad said he wished he was going Chum fishing. I sneezed.

            At school, I rushed through a few last classes, a photo sesh with Mike from the Campbell River Mirror, and an interview. My friends and teachers were so ridiculously kind and encouraging. Thanks, everyone!

            After picking up a few last things (more blank postcards, another memory card), Dad and I went for a walk on the River. When we got home, I repacked for the fourth time and went to sleep.

           

            I woke up to a yellow moon, low in the sky. My toes wriggled and moaned, protesting “getting moving” (- my dad). Despite my OCD preparations, I was still packing while my dad and grandparents waited in the car. I piled in, and waved goodbye again, this time to the little blue house on Alpine St. and to the Pacific Ocean.

            They dropped me at the Comox airport, and continued on a family road trip.

 I sat outside and drank my ginger tea and blew my nose.

            After flying across a few mountains and lots of prairie, I arrived in Winnipeg. Candy and Jeffery waited at the bottom of the moving staircase, smiling and waiving. After a lovely dinner, they showed me The Forks and I got an unabridged history of all the buildings. Although I was exhausted when we got to their house, I don’t think I got much sleep. I was still wired to coastal time.

            This morning, Candy and Jeffery armed me with pastries from an iconic Winnipeg bakery and drove me to the airport. Candy, clothed in running gear, gave me a hug and jogged away into 6:00 am (4:00 am B.C. time!) dark.

            I was meet at the airport by someone from U of M and Cheryl Bailey, one of the teacher-participants. The rest of the group flying from Winnipeg had already gone through, but I promise (mum!) I wasn’t late! Cheryl and I were sent off with a hearty hug from the U of M person. We went through security and found Michelle #1 (the program coordinator), Michelle #2 (researcher), Cami (student – Winnipeg) and Grace (student – Hay River). Everyone was so, so friendly, and enthusiastic. I can’t wait to hear more about their communities, and their lives, which are in some ways, so different from mine.

Is this obnoxious or hard to follow? The thing is, if I know I have to follow proper essay format, or organize my thoughts, or edit, I’m not going to write on here. Sorry Mr. Riddell, for the horrible grammar and made up words. You said I wouldn’t get credit for this anyways. Plus, its stream of consciousness. Literary reference. Boom.

PLUS Plus, if you’re my mum, maybe you are missing me, and this is a good substitute for my constant chatter.

Later…

We’re on the plane to Quebec City now! We’ve been quizzing Michelle on research onboard the ship. We will be bringing up organisms from the sea floor - I can’t contain my excitement! We also had a great conversation about Tofino, and the disappearance of starfish. I think it will be fascinating to see the similarities and differences of the Arctic and our Pacific coast.

I’ll post this when we arrive at the hotel in Quebec, along with some picture from the trip so far.

Over and out,

Tara

PS No pictures for now... Hopefully some soon!

Tara's Journey to the North from Tara Warkentin on Vimeo.

How Does Climate Impact Arctic Life?

The Narwhal, with its mysterious spiral tooth, is a muse for myth and science. 

Their numbers are limited: about 80,000 worldwide (WWF), one-fifth the human population of the arctic region. Between 1987 and 2004, the narwhal population has dropped about 6 percent per year. If we extrapolate that decline to now, the decline has reached over 80% since the mid-1980’s. (Heide-Jørgensen's study). As our climate drives down the road of exponential change, the affect on all life will exceed our imaginations. However, studies show that Narwhals are among the most vulnerable. Will these beasts become just a legend? 

The arctic of the past sat in balance. Inuit hunters coexisted with the living and non-living aspects of the environment. The world existed in dynamic homeostasis.  

Zoom out on the axis of time. Since the start of life on Earth, there have been 8 major drops in life, beginning with the oxygen die off, over 2 billion years ago, and continuing on until the dinosaur, or Cretaceous extinction, 65 million years ago. 

The history of extinctions shows us that there is a direct correlation between temperature and diversity of life. Both temperature and diversity change constantly, but the current rate of change is our cause for concern. 

Continuous positive feedback – whereby the affect of a process amplifies that process – gives rise to cascading change. Higher temperatures, for example, can change the heat reflection quality, or albedo, of the Earth. In the Arctic, rising atmospheric temperature melts ice, leaving behind bare rock and water that absorb greater quantities of heat from the sun.

Changing ice conditions have an impact on all arctic inhabitants. Warmer water benefits plankton, and less sea ice results in a soaring killer whale population, which needs open ocean. The killer whales are quickly overtaking polar bears as the north’s top predator. 

Narwhals live much of their lives underneath a thick layer of ice. However, as mammals, they must surface to breath. Recently, there have been reports of whales becoming trapped under the ice when fractures freeze over due to sudden shifts in the weather. Desperate, hundreds of whales will squeeze into closing chasms. Many suffocate or become easy prey for polar bears circled around the gap. 

The Inuit peoples call this phenomenon “sassat.” They have observed it for hundreds of years, but recent reports have shocking implications. The entrapments occurred at an unusual time of year, in an unusual location: the whale’s summer feeding grounds, as opposed to their winter territory. “The Narwhales were in the wrong place at the wrong time,” according to the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration [US]. Is this an affect of the changing sea ice conditions? 

Schools On Board 

In October, my head full of questions, I embark on a trip to our planet’s far north. Along with eight other high school students and two teachers from Canada, I will be immersed in experiential learning. Through Schools on Board a program run by the University of Manitoba and ArcticNet, we will travel to Resolute, Nunavut, where we will board the Coast Guard vessel The CCGS Amundsen. Along with leading Arctic scientists, we will head east, through Lancaster Sound, conducting oceanographic sampling operations, then north, between Ellesmere Island and Greenland. The trip will conclude with a community visit in Pond Inlet, Nunavut. 

While experiencing the Arctic in all of its elements, we will learn through lectures, workshops and laboratory experiments. There will be an emphasis on social and environmental issues so that the understanding we gain will be both a microscopic and a broad view of the ecosystem. 

Schools on Board is an opportunity for learning as a whole. If an ecosystem is a collection of relationships, being in the midst of those interactions and experiencing them with all of our senses is crucial. I hope to come away with a deep connection to Arctic life, and an understanding of human impact upon it.

When each participant flies back to his or her home community, they will continue to spread their experience of the North. I plan on bringing back what I have learnt to both of my communities. In Campbell River, I will share photos, videos, and stories through the Carihi Earth Club and the science department. I am in the process of arranging visits to museums, elementary schools, and community centers in Campbell River and on Cortes Island. I will also keep this blog while I am away.

As part of my efforts to fund the trip, I am launching an Indiegogo campaign. Armed with watercolours and pens, I will send contributors postcards with a small piece of something I have learnt or observed during the trip. I hope that this is another way of spreading inspiration as far as the post can reach. 

Although the “unicorns of the sea” are diminishing, our understanding of them is growing. Recent research shows that the male Narwhal’s tusk holds up to 10 million nerve endings. As a receptor to the outside world, these sensitive teeth detect shifts in temperature, salinity, and pressure. Could this ocean antenna allow the narwhals to adapt to their changing environment?

The Narwhal’s tusk demonstrates the knowledge that is imbedded in our north. It is the responsibility of my generation to seek understanding of our planet and use it for the wellbeing of all life on Earth. Schools on Board provides the medium to learn.