Our on-the-scene reporters have been verifying things we learned from the O-buoys, back when we had those wonderful things. And what did the O-buoys teach us?

First, that “thickness” maps tend to average out areas with scattered thick bergs and open water, and show them as being neither thick nor open, but rather as an averaged area of thin ice. Second, “concentration” maps tend to do the same thing, for 25% coverage will be a solid color, when it should be speckled. Third, some maps have a cut-off point, and show concentrations below this point as open water, which can put “concentration” maps at conflict with “thickness” maps.

For example the Bremen maps are notorious for showing waters that are 10% covered with very thick bergs as being open waters, at the same time as the Naval Research Lab “thickness” maps show the same area covered with a skim of foot-thick ice. (A certain map I can’t find any more used to make me chuckle, for though it had a key that showed certain colors for 30% and 20% and 10% concentrations, they never bothered use those colors.) Last but not least, we have satellite views, which show the scattered ice, but even when you zoom in as far as you can zoom in, fail to show how open the open water is, nor how substantial the bergs are. The center of the zoomed-in picture below is 77° north, at the longitude our intrepid reporters are sailing into. (South is to the right.)

If you look over the shoulder of the sailor at the tiller in the first picture, you can see ice-free waters clear to the horizon. The O-bouys showed the same, at times. You have to keep in mind the ice is there, just over the curvature of the earth, which is something the men on the deck of this ship were well aware of, for they were and are privy to satellite pictures. After fighting over thick ice earlier, they were glad to make good time north while they could.

They were helped at first by south winds ahead of the last of a sequence of incarnations of “Ralph” moving from Siberia to Alaska. Behind this incarnation winds swung to the north, and they had slippery decks due to snow, and ropes made stiff by freezing temperatures, and also a high pressure was pumped behind the final “Ralph”. (Due to the whimsy of this site, high pressure that builds north from Siberia is named “Igor”.)

The appearance of Igor represented a pattern change, as Igor conquered the Pole and stalled there. Igor set himself up in a way that not only gave our reporters persistent headwinds, but also sucked moisture up from the Atlantic and past the north coast of Greenland and on towards the Pacific, giving them gray skies, but enough mildness to change their snow to rain. It also gave us a great picture of the way a sailor’s eyes look, when the sun has made itself scarce for days.

There is a reason sailors call fighting a headwind a “haul”, and they were working hard to make the good headway they made. One interesting concern they had was a concern about fresh water. With little ice in sight they couldn’t tap the fresh water of melt-water pools. Also the wind was rising, and with the water so open the seas had a chance to build. They were actually glad when a larger berg hove into view, and they could haul their light boat up onto the ice, which of course was far thicker than “thickness” maps would allow you to suspect ice could be. If it had been a flimsy berg it would have crumbled in the heavy seas, but it remained sturdy, allow them needed rest, and also a chance to do some scientific experiments, gathering surface ice so the grit in it can be studied in some lab to the south. (Very responsible behavior for fellows in the midst of a battle.)

While we are on the subject of science, I should mention that the dreary weather does tend to throw a wrench in the idea that open water will absorb a lot of sunshine. Also the temperature maps showed that in the center of the building high pressure Igor, where skies were likely clear, temperatures fell below freezing. This is something we witnessed before, through the eyes of both the North Pole Cameras and the O-buoys. Clear skies and sunshine did not guarantee warming, and in fact often went hand in hand with surprising cold, once past the middle of July.

It seems fairly obvious there are only around sixty days, thirty before and thirty after the solstice, when the incoming sunshine is greater than the heat lost due to radiational cooling to outer space. We are now past those sixty days. The ice will continue to melt until the middle of September, but from now on the heat that causes the melt will come from the water under the ice more than the sunshine above. We can still have above-freezing air temperatures, but they are due to south winds importing air rather than due to the sun being high enough to warm even the North Pole.

The surge of mild air, brought north from the Atlantic by Igor, did warm the Pole. The DMI graph now shows above-average temperatures up there for the first time all summer.

Of course, the above graph only includes areas north of 80° north latitude. Our intrepid adventurers are fighting their way up to 77° north. And Igor has created a lot of sub-freezing temperatures below 80°, on their side of the Pole. Even as Igor weakens, under duress from a Ralph-aspirant north of Hudson Bay and another north of Finland, the area in the wake of our sailors is below freezing.

As Igor weakened his winds slackened, and our sailors pushed off from their solid island of ice to head north. The Atlantic moisture created fog which froze on their sails and jammed their halyards with crystals of ice, but they made steady progress in light winds. And the sun finally reappeared and they sent this lovely view:

Though this patch of water is ice-free, albedo-fanatics should be concerned the sun is so low. This water is reflecting more sunlight than dirty snow and rotten ice does. As best as I can tell from charts, freshly fallen snow reflects 80% of the sunlight, old or dirty ice reflects 40% of the sunlight, and water when the sun is on the horizon? It reflects 65%.

This is what I like about on-the-scene reporters. Pictures don’t fudge the truth.

These particular sailors are well aware of what the sun getting low means, in the arctic. At least two have been through this before. They are well aware when the cold comes, it comes like a hammer. They likely wish the winds were a bit stronger, and they were going forward faster. But they also know they should take advantage of chances to rest, to gather strength for the ordeal that lies ahead:

Please notice sea-ice ahead of them. They are well aware they will soon be blocked by more. The same Atlantic-to-Pacific flow that has spread sea-ice apart on the Pacific side has jammed it together on the Atlantic side. Sea-ice which should have flushed south through Fram Strait to melt in the Atlantic as been retained, but this lack of melting actually makes the “extent” graph look lower, because all the ice which should be on its way to melt isn’t there.

If I have time I will update this post tomorrow with some graphs that show how this “extent” graph gives a false impression. In the meantime, do me a great favor and show compassion for these young sailors. Pray for them, for they are about to send us accurate reports about the true extent of sea-ice in the Central Arctic. They are facing lots of ice, and a terrific challenge, and if any harm comes to these young men certain Alarmists should have their socks sued off, for they promised us the Pole would be ice-free by 2015.

UPDATE —PAST 78° North—

Our intrepid sailors continue to send wonderful pictures. They continue to haul upwind. There is now more ice, but for the most part they are still sailing, though they did mention “some sledding”, which suggests crossing a flat berg blocking their way. They can haul up onto a flat berg in the evening, and are now starting to experience a brief “night”, which is twilight.

This picture is a good example of how “thickness” maps can fool you. This area gives the impression, from maps, of being covered by sea-ice a foot or two thick. Obviously this ice is thicker, and obviously the water in the background is very open.

They don’t like to pull up on the ice much, because Igor is being a pest, and now has all the ice moving the wrong way.

Igor pulled enough cross-polar Atlantic moisture over them to give them a snowy spell.

This is another picture that will distress the albedo-fanatics. The water is suppose to be warmed by benevolent August sunshine, but this water is not warming much.

As they head north they will be using their drone and satellite pictures to look for open water and, if ice blocks them, to seek ice that is nice and flat “baby ice” and not jumbled pressure ridges of multi-year ice. Therefore we can presume a “bias” will exist, and I don’t blame them one bit. They are not up here as tourists, (or Skeptics), seeking the biggest ice-formations they can find. They are not looking to see ice, but rather to cross ice.

You can see a bit of piled-up sea-ice behind them in this picture. It is understandable they would prefer to find ways around it. However they could be running into some pressure ridges soon.

The NRL thickness map suggests thicker ice ahead.

I am not certain of their longitude. I assume they avoided the first wall of thicker ice by heading through the whiter area in the lower left. (They have far better maps than this.) The lilac indicates ice that averages 1-2 feet thick, but as you move into the blue it averages 3-4 feet thick. Of course, you don’t have a clear idea how much of this “average” is open water, from these maps. You can bet they will be picking their way very carefully.

At first the temperatures fall slowly, but only ten days from now the average temperatures start to fall very steeply. Then I foresee them facing an interesting dilemma. They will see the salt water start to freeze. First they will face the problem of freezing spray, and then the problem of water that is filled with slush. For a time they may chose to avoid the water and travel over ice, as the water will be be in the process of freezing up. Watching from the cameras of O-buoys we’ve seen this happens with astonishing speed. The water fills with a shifting sludge of slush, and then the shifting stops as the ice becomes rigid. It is the youngest of “baby ice”, which we should likely call “infant ice”. But the question is, when is it safe to put the boat back on it? It will be very tempting, especially if they are dealing with pressure ridges on the older ice, as it will be nice and flat. I’m sort of glad it is their problem, and not mine, but I am very curious as well.

Currently the weather map shows Igor only slowly being budged east along the Siberian coast as the next “Ralph” presses in from the west.

Some models show Igor being so stubborn that he forms a sort of wall over towards Bering Strait, stopping Ralph’s eastward progress and deflecting him north over the Pole and on towards the Canadian Archipelago. This would give our sailors some tailwinds, at least at first, but I’m a little nervous about how big this version of Ralph could get. These fellows don’t want a summer gale like they saw in 2013. So far it looks like it will only be a 985 mb low, over the Pole by next Wednesday, according to the GFS.

In any case, I’ll post again soon on the progress of these three fellows.

More sea-ice than last year on East Siberian coasts and in Central Arctic; less on Atlantic side. (2017 to left, 2018 to right.) Just a smidgen left in Hudson Bay.

Only a month until the minimum. Stay tuned!

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