Bidding the Arctic Farewell

In my opening blog I mention how fortunate I have been over my career to work with a diverse and passionate group of explorers and archeologists. These individuals mirror the range in projects they undertake. I was talking with Marc Andre, the Director to the Parks Canada Underwater Archeology Service in the wee hours of bright sunshine one morning about our top projects in our careers. Sitting in the inflatable waiting for divers to surface in this bizarre landscape I reflected a bit.

Since joining the NPS I have had the privilege to photograph many once in a life time projects. Early on, right out of film school, I found myself living off the coast of the Florida Keys in the Dry Tortugas NP where the casemate of the civil war Fort Jefferson was my bedroom, crossing a drawbridge over a moat was my morning commute, and diving on shipwrecks 7 days a week was my job. Years later I was the project photographer for the Friends of the Hunley and the National Geographic on the HL Hunley recovery expedition. For six month we worked off-shore diving in surface supplied hard hats along side commercial divers on a project of massive scale. After months of intense work and weeks of 24hr operations we finally recovered the 1^st successful submarine in maritime history which sank off the coast of Charleston, SC in 1864 – crew still aboard. In 2000 I was shooting documentaries for History, National Geographic and Discovery for the 65^th anniversary of the Pearl Harbor attack on the USS Arizona. Around this time I was also working with one of the great underwater cinematographers, Pete Romano, owner of HydroFlex and the best UW director of photography anywhere, on the feature film Pearl Harbor. In addition to diving with the director, Michael Bay, and participating in the insanity that is a Hollywood blockbuster I was able to help the film crew capture the essence of the USS Arizona as it rest today. (sadly, the real USS Arizona was ultimately not “real” enough for the director and he had Industrial Light & Magic build him an entire Arizona model which appeared in the film). Just a couple years ago I was shooting for a PBS NOVA program, a lifetime series favorite and professional dream. These projects, combined with the experience and dives on so many other projects around the NPS and internationally have generated a lifetime of experiences.

2011 HMS Investigator Underwater Team

To be honest though, this trip with Parks Canada to the Arctic has ranked up there as one of the very best. It’s the whole package. The ships history, the recent discovery, the remote location, the fact is never been seen underwater all make it a standout. More than just the subject of the project, the environment and living conditions have made is special. It’s the absolute opposite of a high tech, research vessel based, closed circuit rebreather mission. The Parks Canada Underwater Archeology Service are some of the most talented and dedicated individuals I have ever worked with. Add to that they are generally great guys with the right balance of work and family wrapped with a Canadian sense of humor. They have not only invited this lone American on the expedition, but insured that all the logistics of living in the part of the world for any amount of time were taken care of. My tent, sleeping bag, dry bag, food and even dive gear (minus the dry suit and heater vest – with water this cold, I had to be sure) have all been provided. They have taken me in as part of the team both in this remote location, and the project kick off, cookout hosted by a Ryan’s parents in Edmonton.

So as I bid the Arctic farewell, I will always remember the tundra, the perpetual sunlight and never-ending magic hour, a virgin shipwreck and its it’s shallow frigid final resting place. Perhaps more than anything I will recall the friendships that were formed in the tents, adding boiling water to an unknown substance in a bag, stirring and calling it dinner. The laughs when its 2am and just for fun you decide to blow up your drysuits and sumo wrestle on the beach just because you can. I will remember the team of Parks Canada archeologist who trusted me to document one of the most significant projects in many of the their careers. All this and they even let me hold the Canadian flag every now and then. Thanks guys, it truly was the project of a lifetime.

2011 HMS Investigator Team

Recovering History

One of the primary distinctions (or battles) between archeologist and salvors (treasure hunters) is the disposition, or resting place, of artifacts recovered from historic sites. Granted, as an underwater photographer my opinion may not count in this community, however spending the past 15 years traveling, diving and shooting for them I have a decent “outsiders” perspective. Perhaps the most contentious issue is the recovery of artifacts and if those artifacts are held in public trust for the benefit of education, historical context, and further investigation – OR- are sold to the highest bidder in some effort to pay off investors, stock holders or overall pirates.

I mention this topic in the context of the HMS Investigator expedition as example of how to recover history properly - and ethically.  Throughout the project the Parks Canada underwater  archeologist have not only mapped the ship, but studied its every timber, deck beam, and diagnostic feature possible without excavation. They have identified several artifacts resting on the decks and exposed in the sediment. Each one was painstakingly drawn and mapped (with thick, three finger gloves I might add) while being recorded in place. Candidates for recovery were discussed amongst the team as to the significance of both this site and the context of polar exploration of the mid 1800's as a whole. Artifacts were selected based on site preservation and integrity (the possibility of artifact removal by others), contribution to the historical record of the period, and uniqueness to the ship itself. Once the artifacts were selected, a very detailed plan was put in place not only to lift them from the icy sea, but to transport via helicopter, bush plane and commercial airlines was also considered. In addition the conservation commitment, cost and facilities to properly preserve these pieces in perpetuity was also assessed. Lastly, and I believe most importantly, how can they be used to tell the Investigators story to the public and where?

With all these considerations responsibly addressed by the team, a few select pieces were recovered to be conserved and displayed in a maritime museum. Among the recovered artifacts were boots, copper sheeting with the British broad arrow stamp, felt lining used in the double hull of the polar expedition vessel, and several diagnostic features of period ship construction such as rigging blocks and bits. Perhaps the most impressive recovery was a musket riffle located partially buried in the sediment, lodged between deck debris. Not only was this riffle well preserved carrying both a British War Department serial number and date of manufacture (1848) but it has a story to tell. Its presence rewrites the historical record since it was documented that all armaments were removed upon abandonment of the ship. It also has the potential to be tracked via the serial number to an individual listed in the ships manifest it was issued to. Lastly, it plays a direct connection to the amazing story of survival that the Investigators were subjected to and no doubt was used to sustain the crew in the three years they spent trapped in the ice.

Once on display, this riffle and all the artifacts have stories that would be lost with out the recovery and conservation of these archeologist. Perhaps most importantly, their stories will be told to the public through interpretation and education giving us a rare window polar exploration of the mid nineteenth century. Very exciting.

Walking in the Footsteps of History

Every now and then you get a chance to walk down the path of history. It may be the Coliseum in Rome or the Freedom Trail in Boston. Perhaps it’s a visit to Pearl Harbor where you can stand over the USS Arizona or a trip to Arlington where the countless fallen have been laid to rest. On this particular expedition I have had the opportunity to not only dive on HMS Investigator, but also walk in the footsteps of many of its crew in the exact location where they spent years of hardship trapped in the Arctic. As if to squeeze every morsel of visceral stimulus out of the expedition, I downloaded The Ice Passage, A True Story of Ambition, Disaster, and Endurance in the Arctic Wilderness by Brian Payton to my iPad. It is the retelling of the HMS Investigator based on the journals of both the ships captain, Robert McClure and the ships surgeon, Johann Miertsching – and one of the most gripping tales of true life perseverance I have ever read. For my part, mere yards from the actual shipwreck as the arctic wind whistles through my tent history has a way of coming to life. Now, let me be the first to say as I blog wearing my Patagonia thermals, laying in my -20 degree goose down sleeping bag, on my therma rest in my high-end, project supplied tent that I am no way comparing my time spent in the Arctic with theirs. The crew of the Investigator had it tough, far tougher than I will ever experience in my lifetime and perhaps tougher than most in the history of exploration. I can hardly think of a location, with abysmal weather and dwindling food as they faced, worse than those during the four winters of 1850’s. Even with my modern equipment, the story has a bit of context when reading on the shores of Mercy Bay.

Aside from the shipboard life on Investigator, The Ice Passage retells the activities the crew undertook on the tundra as well. Hunting became the obsession of the withering crew. While reading the book, one passage stuck me a particularly gloomy. Payton writes “Each day, a man is dispatched to the sodden shore to hike atop an eight-hundred foot hill to take long, ponderous looks at the ice-covered sea. Each day, he returns to report that there has been no change, no sign of breakup or movement…The men mill about with empty stomachs, bereft of any sense of pleasure or – for some- even the will to live.” The “sodden shore” is most likely the exact location of our camp and up the “eight-hundred foot hill” is the climb to the north of camp in which these crewmen would hike to assess conditions. This being the last night on Mercy Bay, Marc Andre, Thierry and I decided to hike along the shoreline up to the carren, or marker, built by McClure and his crew at the highest point on this shoreline as a marker to any passing ships to indicate Investigators location trapped inside Mercy Bay.

We departed camp around 11pm, in the full glow of the sun filled “night” sky. As we walked along the shore in the Arctic heat wave of 40 degrees it struck me that this was such a different place than the Investigator crew encountered. With the lack of ice breakup for two solid years, the chances that these men ever saw warm, 40-50 degrees was slim, at least for any extended time. Only recently has climate change and the melting of the polar ice cap enabled ice free waters and warmer temperatures. We walked further, past muskoxen and wolf tracks - all hunted in the 1850’s by the investigator crew for survival. How do you hunt such animals in the tundra with no cover, no place to hide? We began our ascent up the rolling hills to McClure’s cairn at the highest point overlooking the now open ocean. From this vantage point you can look North to the solid white of polar ice shelf. To the East was Mercy Bay, site of the HMS Investigator and our campsite along the shoreline. To the South was the vast rolling hills of the wide open tundra of Banks Island, glowing in the eternal midnight sun. And to the West you could see the open ocean, the longing of those men trapped in the icy grip of fate and destiny. My summit was met with awe inspiring views on an harsh, yet beautiful landscape - but as a mere visitor. I had every confidence that a full meal would be available to me in the morning, that my helicopter would arrive to begin the journey home and that I would reach my home, and those I love, in a matter of days. Theirs was a much different view. The endless ice. The ever sinking feeling of never being able to escape. The distant memory of their home, last seen nearly three years prior, would only be accessible after months on a treacherous ocean…if the ice ever breaks up. Walking in the footsteps of history often time has a way of reminding us of just how fortunate in life we are. 

It Can’t Get Much Colder

Diving in cold water has really come a long way in the recent years. There are so many specialized materials and manufactures that cold water diving is not only bearable but enjoyable – for the right type of diver. To me its just an equation – warmth equals the right equipment. And when you work in such a diverse underwater environments as the National Park Service  you have to have the right gear. Drysuits provide the initial protection and if everything goes as planed underwater, they live up to their name and you stay dry. Some drysuits are designed to provide a certain level of thermal protection in addition to water tightness, some are just a water proof shell. Add to that a variety of options in dive under garments which offer varying degrees of warmth. My particular thermals are made by Fourth Element and pretty much look like my kids snow suits and for extremely cold water, are equally as thick. Full face masks prevent the dreaded numb lips one gets in cold water from holding the regulator in the mouth. Nothings worse than your breathing regulator falling out because you lips are too numb to feel its presences (yes it’s happened). Dry gloves with fleece liners keep the fingers toasty and dry (usually) and a thick semi-dry hood retains that top layer of heat escape just like mom always told about with a hat. For this trip I have even added heater vest which has an external battery pack and an adjustable heat source to warm up the vest and keep ones core nice and toasty. Even with all that very specialized equipment, let me just say the Arctic Ocean is cold. In fact its impossible to get much colder.

On our first dives on the HMS Investigator the temperature on my dive computer read 34F. Sure, that’s cold, but only 2 or 3 degrees colder than my last project at Isle Royale NP in Lake Superior. This is the Arctic. I had two specific ambitions for this trip. The first was to have my picture taken on a ice flow, the second was to dive in water below freezing. A few patches of ice drifted in last night, so check the first goal off the list. Bring on the cold water. I didn’t have to wait long.

Today’s dive felt different as soon as I hit the bottom at 30’. The visibility was very distorted, almost like a mixture of fresh and salt water (called a halocline) or a temperature gradient difference (called a thermocline). It also was cold. I wasn’t sure if I would be able to feel the difference in a couple degrees, I mean cold is cold, right? Wrong. Today my dive computer read 28.8F. It was the first time I have actually used the high setting on my heater vest (a source of envy amongst the Parks Canada divers). The low temperature occurred on or near the bottom where the visibility was oily. Although not an expert by any means, but what seemed to be occurring was the water was so cold it was attempting to freeze but both tide and salt content kept it in its liquid form. As I swam along the hull of the ship I had these comical visions of a hypothetical flash freeze event with an shipwreck ice cube complete with scuba diving photographer. 

The Dive Site

Eternal Sunshine of the Arctic Mind

As the sunshine created a bright orange glow in my tent last “night” at 2:30AM my body was exhausted from a 17 ½ hour day, but my mind was struggling with the concept of 24hr sunshine. The sun is in constant rotation yet never seems to reach its apex above us nor set below the horizon. This creates the illusion of eternal afternoon sunlight from around 6pm to 10am the following day. As I said, its an illusion to the mind to keep working, however the body eventually fights back, takes over, and forces you to rest.

This low light is often referred to as the magic hour, as the sun is low on the horizon which creates soft and deeply shadowed lighting. Here in the arctic we have come to refer to its as the magic 8 hours. It’s a photographers dream. The colors are vivid and the textures are amplified. Even in this seemingly barren landscape, the low light adds drama to the images.

Underwater, the magic hour is not so flattering. With the light low in the horizon it does not have the angle to penetrate through the water as effectively and illuminate the shipwreck. It also limits the angles or options one has to shoot from. Wide angle images that are shot toward the sun appear washed out and flat. This causes the best images to be created with the sunlight behind the photographer which is fine on occasion but not very conducive to capturing underwater archeologist working on the ship. In my years of working with these underwater scientist, although accommodating, very rarely do they like to be prodded and asked to move positions to accomplish their measured drawings for the sake of better light.

Regardless, the sun still shines. The pace of work does not slow down as the team is suffering from the same mind verses body conflict as the hours tick by. Its has become the norm to work both day and night with dive operations running from before lunchtime through 2-3AM. Although the “night” may not be yielding the best underwater light, the bitter cold, North wind has been trending toward a calm this time of night which makes the diving operations somewhat more accommodating. All in all as much as the eternal sunshine plays tricks on ones mind and body, I believe it to be much better that the opposing seasons of eternal darkness and -30 temperatures.