Tuesday, September 25, 2018

Guilt-Free on the Sea? How Norway is using oil and gas riches to engineer a future in emission-free seafaring

Norway’s newest ships, including the passenger vessel Future of the Fjords, may portend the end of carbon-belching vessels.
Of the 60 or so fully electric or hybrid vessels in operation globally, 40 percent are Norwegian.
Photo by Peter Tubaas/NCE Maritime CleanTech

From HakaiMag by Paul Kockenos

How Norway is using oil and gas riches to engineer a future in emission-free seafaring.


Western Norway’s rustic port village of Flåm, a remote goat-farming hamlet and summer escape set deep among the region’s icy fjords and towering, snow-capped peaks, seems an unlikely launch site for the future of sustainable nautical travel.

 Fjords north of Aurlandsfjord with the GeoGarage platform (NHS chart)

But, in the form of a sleek, black-and-white, 42-meter catamaran anchored in the village’s tiny harbor at the end of the glimmering Aurlandsfjord, the future has already arrived.
The mint condidtion vessel with raised dual hulls is joined to the quay by a cable plugged into a delivery-van-sized aluminum cargo container, which houses 5,500 kilograms of batteries.
Otherwise, nothing announces the curious boat as a pioneer of the next generation of seafaring, save for the neat block lettering on its bow: Future of the Fjords.

The zero-emission, battery-powered Future of the Fjords, fabricated out of ultra-lightweight carbon fiber, recently began carrying as many as 400 sightseers at a time through some of Norway’s most jaw-dropping fjords.
The Future, as its crew calls it, is Norway’s latest, most auspicious design in climate-friendly sea travel—part of a bold initiative that could revolutionize the global cruising and shipping industries, egregious emitters of greenhouse gases.
By eliminating the oversized carbon footprint of seafaring vessels, Norway and other shipping nations can dramatically curb carbon emissions, claim Norwegian scientists and clean-tech entrepreneurs.
Simultaneously, electricity-propelled vessels will reduce noxious air pollution in busy harbors.

 A dreamliner among ferries, this carbon fibre hybrid electric ship called the Vision of the Fjords will make sure Norway's natural treasures stay pristine for future generations.

The country has ruled that by 2026, access to its two fjord areas classified as World Heritage Sites, which includes part of the Aurlandsfjord, will be restricted to zero-emission vessels.
Four years later, Norway will begin restricting other fjords and Norwegian waters to ships with low- or zero-emission technology.

Norway is already on track to turn much of its ferry fleet electric; the first batch of 63 new ferries is in production.
Throughout the country’s windswept western archipelagos, other craft—fishing boats, supply vessels, research ships, yachts, tugboats—are switching from traditional diesel-fueled combustion engines to electric propulsion, a prospect that just a few years ago sounded fantastical.
Experts say Norway’s innovations in green seafaring portend the transformation of most small- and medium-sized ships.
Engineers are currently working on expanding emission-free technology to the world’s biggest vessels, including cruise liners, which require significantly greater voltage and will go green much more slowly and in stages, at first in hybrid form.

The islands on Norway’s coast now host so many clean-tech start-ups that the area has been called Norway’s Silicon Valley.
The small firms design hardware such as propeller blades and lightweight hulls for electric ships and engineer the world’s most advanced charging technology, while workers at historical shipyards assemble the components into seaworthy vessels.
Six years ago, the Norwegian government began to plug funding into these pilot projects to determine the feasibility of reducing emissions in nautical travel.
The results of the test projects triggered a full-blown epiphany: alternatives to emission-heavy nautical travel are less complex and costly than anyone thought.

“The Norwegians are ahead on clean shipping,” Felix Selzer, an editor of Hansa, an international maritime journal based in Germany, says during a media tour a week before the Future’s official launch.
“And they’re acting fast to capitalize on it.
They’re changing the equation in the industry.”

The dark irony is that funding for Norway’s costly clean-energy projects is garnered indirectly from the revenues of the country’s sprawling oil and gas fields in the North Sea.
Norway, Europe’s largest petroleum producer after Russia, exports almost all of its reserves, supplying the European Union with about 25 percent of its gas demand.
This is one reason the state can fund the annual NOK 2.7-billion (US $320-million) budget of the Ministry of Climate and Environment’s development agency, known as Enova.
And that’s just one pot of government money available for clean-tech advances.

Around Kristiansund, Geiranger, Sognefjord, Briksdalbre, Aurland.
In the coming years, access to Norway’s iconic fjords may be limited to zero- or low-emission ships.

A scathing 2018 report published by several environmental groups claimed: “There is significant cognitive dissonance as [Norway] fails to address the impact of its oil and gas extraction … and indeed undermines global efforts to reduce emissions.”
The petroleum Norway exports represents 10 times the quantity of greenhouse gas emissions that the country produces itself—much of it emitted through the shipping industry.

Maritime technology, in Norway as elsewhere, has been much slower to turn to clean energy than the automotive sector.
Until very recently, a powerful lobby—in the form of the International Maritime Organization (IMO), a United Nations agency responsible for regulating shipping—had assiduously protected the global shipping industry from regulations to reduce carbon emissions.
The industry, which includes roughly 100,000 commercial oil tankers, bulk carriers, cargo ships, cruise liners, and container ships, runs much of its heavy-duty fleet on the notoriously polluting heavy fuel oil.
Shipping’s bunker fuels are essentially the low-grade (and thus inexpensive) waste products from the oil refining process.
Shipping bears responsibility for two to three percent of global CO₂ emissions.
In 2015, if treated as a country, the international shipping industry would have been the sixth largest emitter of CO₂ in the world—bigger even than Germany.
It will be belching out nearly a fifth of all emissions by 2050 if the sector isn’t cleaned up, experts say.

Because of resistance by the IMO, shippers and cruise companies managed to duck inclusion in the 2015 Paris climate accord, infuriating environmentalists.
Earlier this year, however, in the face of fierce pressure from the European Union, the global maritime industry finally set modest goals for decarbonization.
These included promises to explore battery-electric technology as well as alternative fuels and hydrogen power.
Though heavy-duty tankers, freighters, and jumbo cruise liners won’t go completely green overnight, the industry has pledged to bring down greenhouse gas emissions by at least 50 percent by 2050 (compared to 2008 levels).
So as other countries are now forced to consider clean-shipping initiatives, Norway is fathoms ahead in the race.

Shipping’s carbon footprint, as sinful as it is, almost seems benign when compared to the other pollutants that come from the industry’s fuels of choice.
Scientists say shipping is one of the largest emitters of sulfur, which causes respiratory problems and acidifies fragile ecosystems.
Heavy fuel oil contains 3,500 times more sulfur dioxide than diesel used in cars.
The vessels also discharge high concentrations of nitrogen oxides, highly carcinogenic components of smog.

Norwegian environmentalists say cruise liners have defiled many of the most popular fjords, which have always been reputed for their “pristine” natural beauty.
During harbor visits, the mammoth engines run on low throughout the day, blanketing port villages with smog.
Twelve years ago, the Norwegian Institute for Air Research rang the alarm bell with a damning report on the fjords’ inferior air quality.
The exposé shocked the Norwegian pubic.
Nevertheless, since then, the number of cruise visitors to Norway, a country of 5.2 million, has more than doubled, reaching almost 700,000.

Until now, there have been few alternatives for visitors keen on viewing the majestic byproducts of the last ice age but to sail on the soot-spewing cruise ships—including the storied Hurtigruten fleet, a Norwegian icon that has sailed the coastal route to the Arctic Circle since 1893—or on smaller, diesel-burning liners.

Cruise ships, which would require a significant amount of battery power, will be slower to convert to green energy than smaller vessels such as the Future of the Fjords.

“You don’t immediately see what’s novel about the Future,” explains its chief engineer, David Jansson, during a tour.
Jansson worked in Norway’s maritime freight sector before signing on with the Fjords, the Norwegian start-up behind the $17.2-million Future.

Hatches on either side of the main deck lead down narrow ladders into the catamaran’s dual hulls, where the engine room would be found in conventional craft.
On the Future, it’s called the battery room, because it holds seven tonnes of lithium-ion batteries and a 600-horsepower electric motor—the other hull holds the same.

The ship’s batteries are charged from the stationary, wharf-side battery pack in Flåm and a floating charging dock in the old Viking village Gudvangen, both of which are charged several times a day from Norway’s public power grid.
The long, glass fiber dock in Gudvangen, called Power Dock, also has tanks that receive black and gray water, making the Future the only boat that doesn’t just empty its waste into the fjord.
When the ship docks, the batteries transfer power to the Future through a cable in about 20 minutes.
The energy is 100 percent renewable as its source is Norway’s vast hydroelectric system, which supplies 96 percent of the country’s power.
“The Future’s electricity comes from these mountains,” explains Jansson, waving an arm toward the ranges’ melting snowcaps.

Batteries and hydroelectric projects take their own toll on the environment, of course; no energy source will likely ever be harmless—it’s a matter of degree.
But getting emissions under control is arguably the transport sector’s most pressing concern.

From Flåm, the Future plies the deep waters of the glacier-carved Aurlandsfjord and then sails on to adjacent, interlinked fjords in nearby canyons.
After docking and recharging in Gudvangen, it returns to Flåm.
The unhurried 74-kilometer round-trip journey lasts up to four hours.

Aboard the boat, I immediately notice how quietly the vessel glides across the serene surface of the long, finger-shaped inlet.
In stark contrast to noisy combustion engines, the Future’s motors purr softly like those of an electric car.
As the boat passes a farmstead famous for goat cheese, I can even overhear the local merchants’ chitchat.
Gulls cry as they circle the ship.
Much higher above them soar white-tailed eagles with immense, outstretched wings that appear to be supervising the Future’s maiden voyage.

The battery-powered Future of the Fjords began operation in spring 2018 and travels between the Norwegian villages of Flåm and Gudvangen each day.

Equally delightful, there’s no smokestack stench.
The smell of the sea mingles with that of the thick, coniferous forests that cling to the fjord’s rocky banks.
“You can actually smell the waterfalls,” gushes a fellow passenger, standing on the bow.

And the Future’s gentle motors (battery propulsion is still less powerful than the combustion motors of the average tourist boat) disturb neither herring nor blue whiting, nor mackerel, nor saithe, nor the shoreline’s flora and fauna.

The Norwegian green-transport revolution is being fine-tuned for the water but is rooted in terra firma.
The country started pondering alternatives to the combustion engine for passenger vehicles as early as the 1990s, a full decade before the US start-up Tesla entered the world.
Twenty-five years ago, Norway began encouraging the use of electric plug-in and hybrid vehicles, particularly in the capital city of Oslo.
In the metropolis of 670,000, rebates and a range of tax exemptions helped boost sales of electrics; their owners enjoyed free parking and ferry transport, the use of bus lanes, and even free charging.
Norway’s own electric carmaker, called Think, launched in 1991.
At the time, the phenomenon of climate change was just entering public consciousness.

“The electrification of mobility began because we saw it as a promising industry for Norway, as well as positive for the environment,” explains Øyvind Leistad of Enova.
“We’re a small country with high labor costs, so we have to offer something special, like highly specialized technology.” Initially, the response from customers was underwhelming.
Yet as technology and infrastructure improved and prices came down, electric vehicles gained momentum; by 2015, Norway had topped its goal of 50,000 registered electrics, securing its place as a European frontrunner in the shift to electrics.
Today, Oslo has the world’s highest share of electric vehicles per capita, and a third of its bus fleet runs on fossil fuel alternatives.
Norway has declared that by 2025, all new cars must be zero-emission.

The nation’s state planners and entrepreneurs were certain that tech-minded Norway had a place on the cutting edge of urban sustainability.
Yet Think, which struggled financially all along, finally failed in the face of stiff competition from Asia, the United States, and elsewhere in Europe.
Instead of Think vehicles, Oslo’s streets are full of electric Nissan Leafs, Mitsubishi Outlanders, Volkswagen e-Golfs, and Tesla Model Ss.

So Norway turned its sights to the mare incognita of electric shipping, which it wagered could prove an auspicious market, especially for sea-savvy Norsemen.
“The basics of electric shipping are the same as electric cars,” says Torleif Stokke, director of Servogear, a manufacturer of propeller systems on the island of Bømlo.
“But it’s a completely different thing too and not just because ships are bigger.
A ship doesn’t run like a car.
Transferring the knowledge and technology from a car to a ship is a complex feat of engineering.”

In light of e-vehicles’ strides, Norway’s transportation ministry pushed development of the 21st century’s pioneer fully-electric ferry.
Ferry travel is a vital means of transportation in the country, with about 200 vessels in operation.
The contract was awarded to the Norwegian shipping company Norled and shipyard Fjellstrand AS, in collaboration with the German brand Siemens, which designed the motor.

Just two years later, the consortium delivered the electric-powered car ferry MS Ampere.
Since 2015, the 80-meter catamaran, which accommodates 120 cars and 360 passengers, has crisscrossed the nearly six-kilometer breadth of the Sognefjord, north of Flåm, with 16 round trips a day, seven days a week.
The lightweight ship has a set of electric motors and the most advanced battery and storage technology of its day, which enables it to sail for about 20 minutes between chargings—just long enough to make it across the fjord.

Siemens delivered the electric propulsion system and the charging technology for the world’s first completely electrical car and passenger ferry in Norway.
Due to the change to battery, the ship owner Norled, who operates on the ferry link across Sognefjord between Lavik and Oppedal, is reducing the cost of fuel by up to 60 percent.
The electric car ferry MS Ampere has been running in Norway since 2015, charging after each six-kilometer crossing of the Sognefjord.

“The Ampere is the nautical equivalent of Henry Ford’s Model T,” says Jan Kjetil Paulsen of Bellona, a Norwegian environmental think tank.

Despite the Norwegians’ bravado, electric shipping itself is not entirely novel—nor exclusively Norwegian.
The first electric ships appeared in the United Kingdom late in the 19th century and flourished briefly before losing out to more powerful internal combustion engines in the 1920s.
The Ampere, with the latest technology adopted from the best of electric car technology, declared that the electric ship was back and much improved, illustrating that small and medium ships traveling short distances (relatively slowly) could do so with battery propulsion.

Much like the Ampere, Future of the Fjords is the collective brainchild of several tech companies—all Norwegian.
And they benefitted significantly from government R & D funding and start-up grants.
About an eighth of the Future’s financing was put up by Enova, which started supporting projects in the transport sector in 2016 and has also helped finance a hybrid fishing vessel, a retrofitted historical tall ship, and a fully autonomous, electricity-propelled container freighter—the country’s biggest endeavor yet—which will be launched in 2020, among others.

“The point is not to subsidize the new solutions forever but to make them profitable as soon as possible,” says Leistad of Enova.

In Norway at least, this looks feasible for electric shipping in the near future, in part because of the country’s abundant and inexpensive hydropower.
Few other countries share the same advantage and will need to wait for the cost of green seafaring technology to come down.

Norway may be out in front, but it has competition hot on its heels.
China, for example, purports to have the first all-electric freighter, which hauls coal—yes, carbon-rich, climate-ravaging brown coal—along southern China’s Pearl River to a power plant.
This fall, the Dutch company PortLiner intends to launch two cargo barges to operate between Amsterdam, Antwerp, and Rotterdam.
France, Denmark, Finland, and Belgium are all charging into the waters of electric seafaring too.

Every new generation of electric vessel, as it is with automobiles, has longer range, more battery power, and charges faster.
The Future has nearly twice the power of the Ampere, which looks dated in contrast.
The Dutch barges will be 52 meters long and carry six-meter-long batteries—enabling them to cruise for 15 hours without charging.

 Dutch shipbuilders Portliner are going to build the “Tesla of Cargo-ships”.
An artist’s rendering depicts one of two electric Dutch cargo barges that are set to run between Amsterdam, Antwerp, and Rotterdam after they launch in fall 2018.

As for the cruise ships that dock in Flåm and other ports, there’s progress too, though more incremental.
Because they have motors as big as multistory houses and travel stretches of hundreds of kilometers at a time along western Norway’s 2,400-kilometer-plus coast, they’re more difficult to convert.

“The big ships and tankers won’t run on electricity alone for some time,” says Kjetil Paulsen.
“You’d need a whole power plant to charge the batteries.”

But Norway’s Hurtigruten is testing the limits—pushed by the reality that if it doesn’t slash emissions, it will relinquish the privilege to enter protected fjords, just as international ships will.
It has already sworn off heavy oil fuel, opting instead for lower-sulfur variations of diesel.
The company will soon introduce two new hybrid ships designed by the British carmaker Rolls-Royce to its fleet, with the intent of reducing fuel consumption by 20 percent.

Ventures like the Ampere and Future of the Fjords show how quickly the industry can reinvent itself, with the right incentives in place.

Yet, as I sail through the fjords, relishing the beauty, I wonder whether Norway could do more for the climate—much more—by scaling back its prodigious oil and gas production in the North Sea.
As temperatures here inch up like everywhere else in the world, those snowcaps above Flåm will melt away, leaving Norway with less renewable energy for its electric cars and boats to draw upon, and thus leaving a big question mark about the future of electric mobility of all kinds.
Still, in the short term, the Future and other zero-emission ships are a critical first step toward decarbonizing the maritime industry.

Links

Monday, September 24, 2018

Finally, a world map that's all about oceans


The connectedness of the worlds ocean - from the German magazine mare
Athelstan Spilhaus (1911-1998), geophysicist and oceanographer, offers a representation of the Earth centred on the oceans.
The poles are placed in South America and China, particularly distorting the continents, but the oceans merge into a closed inland sea.

From BigThink by Franck Jacobs

The Spilhaus Projection may be more than 75 years old, but it has never been more relevant than today.

Athelstan Spilhaus designed an oceanic thermometer to fight the Nazis, and the weather balloon that got mistaken for a UFO in Roswell
In 1942, he produced a world map with a unique perspective, presenting the world's oceans as one body of water
The Spilhaus Projection could be just what the oceans need to get the attention their problems deserve.

In 1942, the South African-born oceanographer and geophysicist Athelstan Frederick Spilhaus produced a fascinating map.
The marine regions are represented in the centre of the world.
An immense inland sea (a little more than 70% of the Earth's surface) appears before our eyes.
Let us remember that the World Ocean generates more than 60% of the ecosystem services that allow us to live, starting with the production of most of the oxygen we breathe.
This map is therefore very symbolic of the importance of the seas.
In order to achieve this, the author uses the principles of the following two projections.
The screening by Ernst Hammer and August Heinrich Petermann (co-author with Hermann Berghaus and Carl Vogel of the Atlas Stieler).
The result is an interrupted projection in which the oceans form a unit.
It's both awesome and totally confusing.
The deformation is such that the American and Asian continents are completely torn apart.
Europe, Africa and South-East Asia, on the other hand, have a coherent form.
This projection is rarely used and it's a shame!

This is a world map unlike any other.
Uniquely, it centres on Antarctica.
Disturbingly, it rips Asia and the Americas to shreds.
And compellingly, it presents the seas and oceans – 71% of the Earth's surface – as a unified body of water.

 Spilhaus shoreline maps by Mike Bostock (d3)

The map was designed by a renaissance man who also invented the skyways of Minneapolis and the secret weather balloon that caused the Roswell Incident.
And yet you've never heard of him.

It's a name you would have remembered: Dr Athelstan F. Spilhaus.
But neither this map, connected to a wartime invention for fighting Nazi U-boats, nor his other creations have earned his name household status.

Born in Cape Town in 1911, Spilhaus studied and worked both in his native South Africa and in the U.S., where he settled later in life.
In 1937, he was named assistant professor in at NYU, where he set up the meteorology and oceanography department.
Dr Spilhaus was not just a distinguished meteorologist and oceanographer, but also a prolific inventor.
During the Second World War, he developed the bathythermograph, a device for measuring sea temperature at great depth – making it easier to detect German submarines.
In 1948, he moved to the Minnesota Institute of Technology in Minneapolis.
Perhaps because of the huge contrast between the harsh local winters and Cape Town's Mediterranean climate, he conceived of a network of elevated covered walkways between buildings, sheltering people from severe weather.
The Minneapolis Skyway System is currently 11 miles long, connecting buildings across 80 city blocks.

Following his work on the undersea thermometer, Dr Spilhaus helped develop a similar system of weather balloons for the Air Force, to spy on Soviet nuclear testing.
When one such balloon crashed in New Mexico in 1947, the wreckage was whisked away with such speed and secrecy that the rumour mill went into overdrive.
Some today still claim the crashed device was an extra-terrestrial space ship – the infamous 'Roswell UFO'.

A man of many talents, Dr Spilhaus built some 3,000 varieties of children's toys and for 15 years authored a science-focused, globally syndicated weekly comic strip called Our New Age.
In 1954, Dr Spilhaus became America's first representative on the executive board of Unesco, the UN's educational and cultural department.
A few years later, president Kennedy appointed him to direct the U.S. exhibit at the 1962 Seattle World's Fair.
"The only science I ever learned was from your comic strip", JFK told him.


Dr Spilhaus also proposed the establishment of Sea Grant Colleges – a network of institutes of higher learning focusing on the exploitation and conservation of marine areas.
Which brings us back to the sea, and to this map.

Designed in 1942 while Dr Spilhaus was working on his bathythermograph, it reverses the land-based bias of traditional cartographic projections.
The Spilhaus projection – a combination of the Hammer and Spielmann projections – places the poles of the map in South America and China, ripping up continents to show the high seas as one interrupted whole.

The earth-sea is perforated by Antarctica and Australia, and fringed by the other land masses.
Two small triangles, one at the top of the map and the other on the lower right hand side, mark the same spot: the Bering Strait – as a reminder that what we're looking at is not in fact a vast inland sea, but a body of water that circles the entire globe.


a French graphic designer who has a side project producing strange new countries.

On most maps, the oceans are so vast that they become easy to ignore.
Rather than just use them as background noise, this map focuses on the watery bits of our planet.
That's not just a refreshingly different viewpoint but, it could be argued, also a desperately needed one.

Our oceans produce between 50% and 85% of the world's oxygen and are a major source of food for humanity.
But they are in mortal danger, from overfishing, acidification, plastic pollution and climate change.
Maritime 'dead zones' – with zero oxygen and zero marine life – have quadrupled since the 1950s. Low-oxygen zones have increased tenfold.
The trend is fuelled by climate change (warmer waters hold less oxygen) and, in coastal zones, fertiliser and sewage runoff from the land.

Perhaps this map can do what Earthrise did for the planet as a whole. Taken in 1966 by astronaut Bill Anders of Apollo 8 – the first manned mission to circle the moon – that picture shows our planet rising above the lunar surface, an inversion of the moonrises so familiar to humankind.
It's been called "the most influential environmental photograph ever" because it so clearly visualises the earth as a single, fragile ecosystem.

Earth rising above the lunar horizon; image taken by Bill Anders of Apollo 8 on 24 December 1968. The land mass visible in the lower right-hand side is northwest Africa.

The oceans need a similarly powerful unifying visual.
Even though it's over 80 years old, this projection reminds us that saving the planet is pointless if we don't also save the seas

Links :

Sunday, September 23, 2018

100 Island Challenge


This model was collected on Ta'u, part of American Samoa. Collection of this model was made in partnership with NOAA's Pacific Islands Fisheries Science Center (PIFSC) on an expedition to monitor the reefs around American Samoa.
This particular model is of the coral nicknamed "Big Mama"- a large Porites colony thought to be over 500 years old!
This model was created using Structure from Motion (SfM) technology and is visualized using the custom built software Viscore developed by Vid Petrovic and Falko Kuester as part of the Cultural Heritage Engineering Initiative (CHEI) at UC San Diego.
Learn more at 100islandchallenge.org !

Coral reefs cover less than 0.1% of the Earth’s surface, yet are estimated to support greater than 25% of marine biodiversity.
For the hundreds of millions of people living adjacent to coral reefs, this productive ecosystem provides important shoreline protection and critical food security.
Alarmingly, a combination of local human influences and global climatic changes are altering the structure and functioning of many reef ecosystems.

For years, our team at Scripps Institution of Oceanography has been working to establish a regional scale perspective of coral reef health, investigating how reefs are structured, how they change over time, and how we can better manage them in the face of global change.

This 3D model was collected at Flint Island, Southern Line Islands, Republic of Kiribati, in 2013.
One of the most remote and pristine islands on the planet, Flint Island, and the southern Line Islands as a whole, offer researchers from the Scripps Institution of Oceanography the rare opportunity to study coral reefs in pristine states over large scale physical gradients known to influence reef development.

To accelerate this crucial effort, we propose a campaign of field surveys across the tropical Pacific and beyond that will generate critical data about reef ecosystems through time.

By using a collection of survey technologies coupled with ecological theory and quantitative models, we will gain important insights into the relative condition of coral reefs from across locations, using large-scale geographic scope to provide context for comparisons across locations.
By developing a rigorous and repeatable sampling protocol, especially with the inclusion and sharing of high-resolution data (fish, benthic, oceanographic) and novel reef visualization products (i.e. large-area ‘photomosaics’) in collaboration with engineers, we can inform and educate managers and other stakeholders about how their coral reefs work and what is needed to ensure that reefs persist into the future.

Saturday, September 22, 2018

Gypsea stories : Wylo II

Gypseas live on the water.
Afloat and free they roam all over the world.
At 70, the infamous Nick Skeates has sailed around the world 4 times.
Many have wondered how he does it and the changes he has seen over the years.
This film reveals a unique insight into his life onboard his equally famous boat Wylo II. 

Friday, September 21, 2018

Container ship crosses Arctic route for first time in history due to melting sea ice

Venta Maersk Escorted Through Sannikov Strait

From The Independant by Tom Embury-Dennis

Ice-class 42,000 ton vessel carries Russian fish and South Korean electronics to Europe

A commercial container ship has for the first time successfully navigated the Northern Sea Route of the Arctic Ocean, a route made possible by melting sea ice caused by global warming.


The Venta Maersk in the Russian port of Vladivostok as it prepares to set off on its Arctic voyage, Russia August 22, 2018.
(Yuri Maltsev / Reuters)

Maersk Line, the world’s biggest container shipping company, told The Independent its ship, Venta Maersk, was expected to reach its final destination of St Petersburg next week.
The new ice-class 42,000 ton vessel, carrying Russian fish and South Korea electronics, left Vladivostok, in the far east of Russia, on the 23 August.

 The voyage of the Venta Maersk from Asia to Europe and ice conditions along the route.
(courtesy of Malte Humpert)


With help from Russia's most powerful nuclear icebreaker, it followed the Northern Sea Route up through the Bering Strait between Russia and Alaska, before travelling along Russia’s north coast and into the Norwegian Sea.

 Venta Maersk route captures by Lemur satellites from Spire

The route has seen growing traffic during summer months already, with cargos of oil and gas regularly making the journey.

Arctic sea ice hit a record low for January this year, and an “extreme event” was declared in March as the Bering Sea’s ice levels reached the lowest level in recorded history as temperatures soared to 30C above average.

Arctic sea ice extent for September 17, 2018 was 4.60 million square kilometers (1.78 million square miles). The orange line shows the 1981 to 2010 average extent for that day.

Data released by the National Snow and Ice Data Centre in Colorado showed this winter’s sea ice cover was less than a third of what it was just five years ago.

The Northern Sea Route can cut journey times between Asia and Europe by up to two weeks by allowing ships to avoid travelling through the Suez Canal or past the Cape of Good Hope in South Africa.
The Arctic Ocean route does, however, remain more costly as icebreakers are still required to accompany ships.

On the Northern Sea route heading for Yurp.

In an email to The Independent, Maersk confirmed the success of the “one-off trial passage”, with icebreaker ships providing assistance “as required”.
“The trial passage will enable us to explore the operational feasibility of container shipping through the Northern Sea Route and to collect data,” a spokesperson said.
“Currently, we do not see the Northern Sea Route as a commercial alternative to our existing network.”


Sune Scheller, project leader of Greenpeace Nordic, told The Independent any regular shipping route in the Arctic Ocean ultimately risked an "environmental catastrophe".
"The most immediate threat comes from some of the problems with the fuel," he said.
“Maersk hasn’t spoken about which kind of fuel this [ship] is using, but in general container ships are using heavy fuel oil, which is basically what’s left in the barrel.”

Mr Scheller said the "dirty fuel" had "consequences" for the environment, including adding to particulate matter in the atmosphere.
Also known as black carbon, particulate matter rests on white surfaces like ice and snow and absorbs heat instead of reflecting it, which contributes to climate change.
According to The Economist, “just 15 of the biggest ships emit more of the noxious oxides of nitrogen and sulphur than all the world’s cars put together”.
"It’s also of a concern in case of an accident," Mr Scheller continued.
"It is more toxic and it is more difficult to get out of the environment again, especially an Arctic environment where the water is cold."
A combination of the use of heavy fuel oil, the shallow water of the Arctic Ocean, and the ice makes the Northern Sea Route one of "increased risk" of a catastrophe, he added.


Even though the Northern Sea Route (NSR) is only feasible for three months of the year, globalwarming is making it increasingly viable for major shipping companies. 

However, no expert has ever predicted that the NSR would become a "maritime highway" in the decade 2010.
The majority of global shipowners are indeed convinced by the Arctic, but from the 2030s onwards.
(courtesy of Statista)

But as global warming increases ice loss, Mr Scheller said banning commercial shipping in the area was unlikely to be a realistic possibility.
“What’s important now is that you make sure that when this becomes available, you have the necessary regulation in place in the area," he said.
"So that means you have vessels that are capable of charting this area, But it’s also about putting bans on the most dirty types of fuels that exist."

Global estimates suggest ships are responsible for 15 per cent of nitrogen oxides and 8 per cent of sulphur gas worldwide.
These gases have been linked with a range of health problems including asthma, heart disease and cancer.

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