Extract from my Log, July 2006 - Arctic Trip

As we drew closer to the Arctic’s icy jungle in the Davis Strait and beyond the reach of night, it seems that we have left time itself back at the pier.

After months of darkness, the sea has shed its frozen skin. Large floes, mottled with snowmelt ponds, splinter off from thinning landfast ice. As the solid ice retreats, the open stretches of water become travel corridors for whales, and other sea life.

I know now that the frozen seas are not a pure unbroken sheet anchored in place. Instead it looks like an immense broken pane of glass, its pieces–the ice floes-jostled continuously and unpredictably by wind, currents, and tides.

Once you have experienced this, who wouldn’t want to save it? Will my grandchildren get to see this? I questioned.