Shipping out

I depart from the Amundsen with mixed feelings. I'm sad to be leaving the scientists and crew on board, who have been incredibly welcoming over the last week, but I'm looking forward to being able to walk around on dry land.

Fifteen people are leaving the icebreaker today and thirteen are joining. It's an impressive feat coordinating helicopter transfers via the bleak airstrip at Cape Parry. Although it's not as bleak as it first appears - further investigation whilst we wait for the plane reveals an ungainly Arctic hare lolloping away from us and some low-lying clumps of flowers.

Before I head back to Inuvik I join Natalie Asselin of the University of Manitoba in an aerial survey for whales. At first the whales I spot turn out to be whale-shaped pieces of ice - Natalie is studying the beluga whale, which is white. But then I realize that the black rock I have been staring at absent-mindedly has a tail - it's a bowhead, a different species. Once I've got my eye in, I see another bowhead and around eight belugas, mainly in groups of two or three.

Belugas tend to hang around near sea ice, Natalie tells me, probably to feed on Arctic cod and for protection from killer whales. Belugas don't have a fin on their backs so, unlike killer whales, they can swim underneath the ice. The reduction in ice cover as climate change progresses could be a problem for belugas so it's useful to know more about how they interact with the ice. Scientists also don't have much data on the whales' behaviour at this time of year - it's hard to get here in spring unless you overwinter in the area, as the Amundsen has.

This year the researchers saw their first beluga arrive on its migration from the Bering Strait between Russia and Alaska on May 9th, around three weeks earlier than expected. That could be due to the low ice conditions this year or simply because no-one has looked before. They plan to check with members of the Inuit community, who hunt belugas as a traditional food source, when the whales usually arrive in the area.

As we fly above the waves, Natalie uses an instrument called a hyperspectral sensor to measure the characteristics of the ice and water, as well as taking photographs through a glass window in the floor of the plane.

Towards the end of the flight, the cloud comes down and we duck underneath it until it feels like we are almost touching the sea. Apart from this cloud and the fog that delayed my arrival, I've seen clear blue skies all week. It's hard to believe that's not normal - on average in summer the Arctic is covered in cloud 80% of the time because of all the moisture from the ocean and melt ponds.

Although I'm heading home the Amundsen will move further north to M'Clure Strait off Banks Island, an area that hasn't been studied before. I hope the researchers have a great trip and get the data they need to tell us more about this vast wilderness - an early sufferer of the effects of climate change.