Julia Whitty

Julia Whitty

Environmental Correspondent

Julia is an award-winning author of fiction and nonfiction (Deep Blue Home, The Fragile Edge, A Tortoise for the Queen of Tonga), and a former documentary filmmaker. She also blogs at Deep Blue Home.

Full Bio | Get my RSS |

Julia is a writer and former documentary filmmaker and the author of The Fragile Edge: Diving & Other Adventures in the South Pacific, winner of a PEN USA Literary Award, the John Burroughs Medal, the Kiriyama Prize, the Northern California Books Awards, and finalist for the Dayton Literary Peace Prize, and Deep Blue Home: An Intimate Ecology of Our Wild Ocean. Her short story collection A Tortoise for the Queen of Tonga won an O. Henry and was a finalist for the PEN Hemingway Award. She also blogs at Deep Blue Home.

The Fabled Northwest Passage: Arctic Ocean Diaries No. 8

| Sat Oct. 20, 2012 3:08 AM PDT

Healy's position in the Beaufort Sea en route to the Amundsen GulfHealy's position in the Beaufort Sea en route to the Amundsen Gulf

We're currently on a long transit of nearly 500 miles (805 kilometers) across the Beaufort Sea. In the map above you can see Healy's position (ship icon) as of 22:32 Universal Time on 16 October.

We've crossed into Canadian waters and are currently about 164 nautical miles (188 miles / 303 km) north of the Mackenzie River Delta. If you look carefully at the map near the ship's position you can see the demarcation line of the US Exclusive Economic Zone (EEZ). Not far away is the Canadian EEZ. Notice how they overlap.

Oh well, even the best of friends can argue.

The Canadians have been kind enough to allow us into their territorial waters to do research on this cruise. Bob Pickart, a physical oceanographer at the Woods Hole Oceanographic Institution and Principle Investigator aboard Healy, applied for the permits, both from Canada and from the First Nation communities on the North Slope. In return he has agreed to a timetable for releasing his data to them.

Amundsen Gulf and the entrance to the Northwest PassageAmundsen Gulf and the entrance to the Northwest Passage

We're headed to the mouth of the Amundsen Gulf between Banks Island (center map, top), the southwestern most island of the Canadian Archipelago, and the Canadian mainland. This body of water lies at the western entrance to the fabled Northwest Passage.

Bob wants to deploy a mooring in the mouth of the Gulf—the position is marked by the red triangle at center of map—to collect data for the next 12 months on what type of water is entering there and how quickly it flows.

Oceanographers know that Pacific water enters the Arctic Ocean via the Bering Strait and somehow winds its way across the Arctic to end up in the North Atlantic. There are different possible routes it could take. Bob's question is whether or not any of it beelines east across the Beaufort Shelf into the Northwest Passage via the Amundsen Gulf. This mooring should answer that.

In case you're wondering, the red and yellow in the maps is sea ice. More on that soon.

Advertise on MotherJones.com

How Our Vessel Saved Nome: Arctic Ocean Diaries No. 7

| Wed Oct. 17, 2012 9:59 AM PDT

 The Science Conference Lounge. Julia WhittyThe Science Conference Lounge. Julia Whit

Editor's note: Julia Whitty is on a three-week-long journey aboard the the US Coast Guard icebreaker Healy, following a team of scientists who are investigating how a changing climate might be affecting the chemistry of ocean and atmosphere in the Arctic.

Every other night someone gives a lecture in the Science Conference Lounge at 7pm. First up was Captain Beverly Havlik, Commanding Officer of USCGC Healy. She gave a riveting seafaring description of the Healy's pivotal role in keeping the people of the city of Nome from freezing last winter.

Advance of the sea in in the Bering Sea near Nome from November 9-26, 2011.  Image courtesy of the United States Coast GuardAdvance of the sea in in the Bering Sea near Nome from  09-26 November 2011. Image courtesy of the United States Coast Guard

You might remember the story. An early monster of a storm swept through the Bering Sea 08-10 November 2011, which turned around the tug and barge delivering fuel to Nome. In the wake of the storm, sea ice closed in too fast for the vessels to return. In the maps above you can see how the ice front advanced a whopping 180 nautical miles (207 miles) in only 18 days.

The Russian tanker Renda steaming in the wake of USCGC Healy in the Bering Sea.  Image courtesy of the United States Coast GuardThe Russian tanker Renda steaming in the wake of USCGC Healy in the Bering Sea. Image courtesy of the United States Coast Guard

Since there are no roads connecting Nome to the outside world, the people there rely on sea and air cargo for virtually all of their goods. As Captain Havlik explained, it would be tough for flights to make up the 1.3 million gallons of fuel a tanker ship normally delivers. The equivalent by air would require 270 flight—which are also vulnerable to weather during the Alaskan winter. But what if the US Coast Guard icebreaker Healy could lead a tanker ship to Nome? Turns out the only tanker available was the T/V Renda, a Russian ship. So bureaucracies were laid aside. And the crew of Healy, who were looking forward to steaming home to Seattle for the December holidays after an extremely long season in the Arctic, were told they were needed in the north again.

The two ships entered the ice on 06 January (map below), 365 nautical miles (420 miles) from Nome. Healy broke ice and Renda steamed in her wake. When Renda bogged down, Healy performed a variety of icebreaking maneuvers to free her. Though none of it was that easy. Captain Havlik described the many frustrations: translation problems between Russian and American crews; issues of trust (since the icebreaker needed to steam extremely close to Renda to cut her free); extreme cold; the ever-changing pack ice.

Insert image #4: Progress to Nome (1 nautical mile = 1.15 miles) of Healy and Renda, 2012. Image courtesy of the United States Coast GuardProgress to Nome (1 nautical mile = 1.15 miles) of Healy and Renda, 2012. Image courtesy of the United States Coast Guard

In the map above you can see their progress through the ice. Some days were better than others. There were other considerations too. A transit closer to Saint Lawrence Island (center of map) would likely have provided something of a lee shore from winds and ice. But the island is critical winter habitat for the endangered sea ducks known as spectacled eiders, so that was a no go.

Nome, January 2012. The red dotted line shows where the fuel hose connecting T/V Renda to the town was laid. Image courtesy of the United States Coast Guard.Nome, January 2012. The red dotted line shows where the fuel hose connecting T/V Renda to the town was laid. Image courtesy of the United States Coast Guard.

After eight days plowing through a frozen sea, the two ships arrived at the port of Nome. Because the harbor was too shallow for Healy's draft all the fuel had to be offloaded 460 yards from shore. A path was mowed through the pressure ridges in the ice and two hoses were laid out connecting the fuel tanks on Renda with the fuel tanks in Nome. The pumps ran nearly nonstop for the next 60 hours. The citizens of Nome turned out to help. A few Alaskans from other parts of the state flew in to help. The Healy and Renda crews were thanked with batches of cookies and cakes from the people of Nome.

Return progress of Healy and Renda through the ice.  Image courtesy of the United States Coast GuardReturn progress of Healy and Renda through the ice. Image courtesy of the United States Coast Guard

By the time the fuel transfer was complete and the ships started back south the pack ice had grown further and open water was now a daunting 500 nautical miles (575 miles) away. But Healy and Renda had a working system in place. And they were steaming with the wind this time. As you can see from the map above, they made better time.

In-ice mission stats Image courtesy of the United States Coast GuardIn-ice mission stats Image courtesy of the United States Coast Guard

"The crew of Healy was outstanding," said Captain Havlik. And the mission was proof that the US needs more icebreakers. USCGC Healy is currently the only operational icebreaker in the the US fleet—Coast Guard or Navy.

Whalers and Scientists Work Together: Arctic Ocean Diaries Dispatch No. 6

| Mon Oct. 15, 2012 3:03 AM PDT
Leanna Russell, Community Observer aboard USCGC Healy.

Editor's note: Julia Whitty is on a three-week-long journey aboard the the US Coast Guard icebreaker Healy, following a team of scientists who are investigating how a changing climate might be affecting the chemistry of ocean and atmosphere in the Arctic.

Traveling with us on the cruise through the Arctic Ocean is Leanna Russell, a member of the Native Village of Barrow. Leanna's aboard the ship as a community observer whose daily reports on Healy's work and the ship's interactions with local subistence hunters eventually wend their way to the National Science Foundation.

Map of figure-8 bowhead whale migration. Courtesy of Melanie Smith, Arctic Ocean AtlasMap of figure-eight bowhead whale migration. Courtesy of Melanie Smith, Arctic Ocean Atlas

This is the season of the autumn migration of bowhead whales. They're vacating the Arctic for their winter waters in the Bering Sea. As you can see in the map above, their migration follows a figure-eight pattern: in spring, up from the Bering along the Alaskan coast, past Point Barrow and into the Arctic Ocean as far as the Canadian Archipelago; in autumn, down along the Beaufort Shelf off northern Alaska, past Point Barrow again, en route to the Russian coast of the Chukchi Sea, then back to the Bering Sea. (Thanks to Melanie Smith, a bird observer aboard Healy, and author of the "Arctic Ocean Atlas," for this map. I'll write more about her work later.)

Virtually every bowhead in this part of the Arctic is streaming past Point Barrow at this time of year. Consequently this season was traditionally one of two whaling seasons for Inupiat in the area. And nowadays it's one of two seasons when Inupiat get a bowhead catch quota. But it's also the season for our science cruise to work these same waters.

fruchtzwerg's world/Flickrfruchtzwerg's world/Flickr

That's a lot going on in one relatively small piece of ocean.

Inupiat whalers don't want big ships, like ours, around when they're actively hunting bowheads because they fear big ships drive away the whales. So as long as Inupiat still have whales left on their quota and as long as they want to go out and hunt, Healy works elsewhere. Leanna's job is to help coordinate between the ship and the whalers as these decisions are made.

Even though the whalers of Barrow have one whale left on their quota this season, Healy has been able to work off Point Barrow for the past three days because 25-knot winds have kept the whalers and their small boats ashore.

Aurora Borealis: Arctic Ocean Diaries No. 4

| Thu Oct. 11, 2012 3:00 AM PDT

Aurora borealis seen from the deck of the USCG icebreaker Healy in the Arctic Ocean: Photo courtesy of Laurie Juranek, Oregon State UniversityAurora borealis seen from the deck of the USCG icebreaker Healy in the Arctic Ocean: Photo courtesy of Laurie Juranek, Oregon State University

Editor's note: Julia Whitty is on a three-week-long journey aboard the the US Coast Guard icebreaker Healy, following a team of scientists who are investigating how a changing climate might be affecting the chemistry of ocean and atmosphere in the Arctic.

Last night those of us on night watch—or those who stayed up especially for it—saw the show of a lifetime. The forecast was for a strong aurora borealis starting around midnight local time. The skies had been overcast and worse all day, as we frequently sailed into blinding snow squalls. There didn't seem a whole lot of hope that we'd get a glimpse of the magical polar lights.

I spent a couple of hours on Healy's bridge staring out into the night. The bridge is the highest interior space on the ship, five decks above the main deck, with wraparound windows designed to give whomever is sailing the ship a view in all directions. The bridge at night is one of my favorite parts of being at sea: hushed, completely dark except for pinpoints of red light (red light maintains your night vision), with an intimate view, no matter how dark the night, of sea and sky. It's a cocoon of intense concentration, punctuated by the soft chimes of the ship's bells marking time.

The Healy's bridge during the day. Julia WhittyThe Healy's bridge during the day. Julia Whitty

At midnight, what I first thought was a break in the clouds began to pulsate. Then suddenly the clouds sheared away and stars burst through. Except they were radically different from stars in a clear sky. They were bigger and seemingly brighter, like glow-in-the-dark stars on a kid's bedroom ceiling, amplified by the curtains of green, blue, white, and red aurora shooting across the sky.

Now the wraparound view of the bridge wasn't nearly big enough. Several of us threw on every piece of clothing we had at hand and braved the open weather deck behind the bridge. It was cold and about 30 knots of wind were blowing. Yet it was the sky that took our breath away. The whole dome of heaven was transformed into sheets of translucent silk that shook out upon the stars, rippling across the Pleiades, the Big Dipper, and the North Star. The Milky Way was painted with a luminescent blue geyser that erupted and subsided almost faster than my eyes could register it. And then another, and another. Looking straight up, I saw veils of billowing emerald aurora falling down upon me, as if I were standing in a waterfall of light sparkling with stars and planets.

And through it all, to our left, off our port beam as we sailed northeast, the strongest beacon of all in this magical sky burned ominously from the platform of Shell's drilling rig in the Arctic Ocean, reminding us of how fragile these lights, this world, really is.

The map below, from the Northern Alaska Environmental Center will give you an idea of our position during the events described in this post. The ship was about three-quarters of the way between the town of Wainwright and the yellow dots marking Shell drilling sites in the Chukchi Sea:

Northern.orgNorthern.org

Thu Apr. 8, 2010 1:18 PM PDT
Tue Apr. 6, 2010 1:03 PM PDT
Mon Apr. 5, 2010 4:39 PM PDT
Fri Apr. 2, 2010 2:14 PM PDT
Wed Mar. 31, 2010 2:46 PM PDT
Tue Mar. 30, 2010 12:45 PM PDT
Mon Mar. 29, 2010 12:29 PM PDT
Wed Mar. 24, 2010 2:33 PM PDT
Mon Mar. 22, 2010 3:52 PM PDT
Fri Mar. 19, 2010 3:54 PM PDT
Thu Mar. 18, 2010 4:14 PM PDT
Wed Mar. 17, 2010 5:38 PM PDT
Tue Mar. 16, 2010 7:56 PM PDT
Mon Mar. 15, 2010 3:25 PM PDT
Thu Mar. 11, 2010 3:31 PM PST
Wed Mar. 10, 2010 5:06 PM PST
Mon Mar. 8, 2010 5:30 PM PST
Fri Mar. 5, 2010 5:07 PM PST
Thu Mar. 4, 2010 5:22 PM PST
Wed Mar. 3, 2010 2:12 PM PST
Mon Mar. 1, 2010 4:06 PM PST
Thu Feb. 25, 2010 6:31 PM PST
Wed Feb. 24, 2010 5:27 PM PST
Mon Feb. 22, 2010 6:48 PM PST
Fri Feb. 19, 2010 3:43 PM PST
Wed Feb. 17, 2010 4:23 PM PST
Tue Feb. 16, 2010 5:28 PM PST
Wed Feb. 10, 2010 3:36 PM PST
Tue Feb. 9, 2010 9:42 PM PST
Fri Feb. 5, 2010 6:57 PM PST
Thu Feb. 4, 2010 8:07 PM PST
Wed Feb. 3, 2010 7:18 PM PST
Mon Feb. 1, 2010 5:51 PM PST
Fri Jan. 29, 2010 6:49 PM PST
Wed Jan. 27, 2010 4:39 PM PST
Tue Jan. 26, 2010 6:50 PM PST
Mon Jan. 25, 2010 4:52 PM PST
Thu Jan. 21, 2010 7:07 PM PST
Wed Jan. 20, 2010 6:21 PM PST
Tue Jan. 19, 2010 6:27 PM PST
Fri Jan. 15, 2010 7:00 PM PST
Wed Jan. 13, 2010 7:15 PM PST
Wed Jan. 13, 2010 6:57 PM PST
Tue Jan. 12, 2010 7:05 PM PST
Mon Jan. 11, 2010 6:57 PM PST
Mon Jan. 11, 2010 5:40 PM PST
Thu Jan. 7, 2010 7:09 PM PST
Wed Jan. 6, 2010 8:57 PM PST
Wed Jan. 6, 2010 8:19 PM PST
Tue Jan. 5, 2010 8:32 PM PST