the ice stays frozen long enough, these pockets of brine drain out through fine, veinlike channels, and the ice becomes fresher. Multiyear ice is so fresh that if you melt it, you can drink it.
The most precise measurements of Arctic sea ice have been made by NASA, using satellites equipped with microwave sensors. In 1979, the satellite data show, perennial sea ice covered 1.7 billion acres, or an area nearly the size of the continental United States. The ice’s extent varies from year to year, but since then the overall trend has been strongly downward. The losses have been particularly great in the Beaufort and Chukchi Seas, and also considerable in the Siberian and Laptev Seas. During this same period, an atmospheric circulation pattern known as the Arctic Oscillation has mostly been in what climatologists call a “positive” mode. The positive Arctic Oscillation is marked by low pressure over the Arctic Ocean, and it tends to produce strong winds and higher temperatures in the far north. No one really knows whether the recent behavior of the Arctic Oscillation is independent of global warming or a product of it. By now, though, the perennial sea ice has shrunk by roughly 250 million acres, an area the size of New York, Georgia, and Texas combined. According to mathematical models, even the extended period of a positive Arctic Oscillation can account for only part of this loss.
At the time the Des Groseilliers set off, little information on trends in sea-ice depth was available. A few years later, a limited amount of data on this topic—gathered, for rather different purposes, by nuclear submarines—was declassified. It showed that between the 1960s and the 1990s, sea-ice depth in a large section of the Arctic Ocean declined by nearly 40 percent.
Eventually, the researchers on board the Des Groseilliers decided that they would just have to settle for the best ice floe they could find. They picked one that stretched over some thirty square miles. In some spots it was six feet thick, in some spots just three. Tents were set up on the floe to house experiments, and a safety protocol was established: anyone venturing out onto the ice had to travel with a buddy and a radio. (Many also carried a gun, in case of polar-bear problems.) Some of the scientists speculated that, since the ice was abnormally thin, it would grow thicker during the expedition. Just the opposite turned out to be the case. The Des Groseilliers spent twelve months frozen into the floe, and, during that time, it drifted some three hundred miles north. Nevertheless, at the end of the year, the average thickness of the ice had declined, in some spots by as much as a third. By August 1998, so many of the scientists had fallen through that a new requirement was added to the protocol: anyone who set foot off the ship had to wear a life jacket.
The extent of the Arctic’s perennial sea ice has declined dramatically in recent years. Credit: F. Fetterer and K. Knowles, Sea Ice Index, National Snow and Ice Data Center.
Donald Perovich has studied sea ice for thirty years, and on a rainy day not long after I got back from Dead horse, I went to visit him at his office in Hanover, New Hampshire. Perovich works for the Cold Regions Research and Engineering Laboratory, or CRREL (pronounced “crell”). CRREL is a division of the U.S. Army that was established in 1961 in anticipation of a very cold war. (The assumption was that if the Soviets invaded, they would probably do so from the north.) He is a tall man with black hair, very black eyebrows, and an earnest manner. His office is decorated with photographs from the Des Groseilliers expedition, for which he served as the lead scientist; there are shots of the ship, the tents, and, if you look closely enough, the bears. One grainy-looking photo shows someone dressed up as Santa Claus, celebrating Christmas in the darkness out on the ice. “The most fun you could ever have” was how Perovich described the