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The
Hubbard Glacier and land forming a narrow channel between Russell Fjord,
top right, and Disenchantment Bay.
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Almost three months before, the mammoth, expanding Hubbard Glacier had advanced across the mouth of Russell Fjord, shoving a pile of icy rock against the entrance, cutting off the fjord's connection with the sea.
Fed by mountain streams and meltwater from other glaciers, Russell Fjord became Russell Lake, inexorably gaining almost 10 inches a day. But as the glacier continued to push forward, the icy rock — a moraine, to glaciologists — was squeezed higher as well, and kept back the lake water.
Then at 3 a.m. on Aug. 14, after heavy rain had pushed the lake to more than 61 feet above sea level, the water won. The lake began to run over and erode its rocky obstruction.
By midnight an incredible rush of water, 1.9 million cubic feet a second, was bursting through the growing breach — a third more volume than the highest recorded flow of the mile-wide Mississippi as it passes Baton Rouge, La.
But here water was gushing through a needle's-eye opening as little as 600 feet wide, said Dennis Trabant, a glaciologist with the United States Geological Survey, which had installed monitoring equipment. "It was a monster discharge, a fantastic event," Mr. Trabant said.

The deluge propelled icebergs out of Disenchantment Bay and down through Yakutat Bay to the sea. By the afternoon of Aug. 15, the lake had become a fjord again, back at sea level.
This was the handiwork of the largest glacier in North America to terminate in the sea, as it grazed past a fjord in a stolid advance that began a century ago.
But if glacial growth provided the most striking story this summer in Alaska, the more important news was glacial retreat.
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The
retreating terminus of Tyndall Glacier at the head of Icy Bay, Alaska.
Retreating glaciers in Alaska are dumping far more water into the sea
than had been expected. Bruce F. Molnia/U.S. Geological Survey |
Dr. Keith Echelmeyer, a professor of geology and geophysics at the University of Alaska at Fairbanks and an accomplished bush pilot, has been flying his two-seat Piper PA-12 regularly over glaciers since 1993 and using laser altimetry to plot changes.
After comparing their data against topographical maps that go back 50 years, he and his colleagues recently published their findings in Science for the first 67 glaciers measured, representing about 20 percent of the area covered by these Alaskan ice rivers and the geographically connected regions of the Canadian Yukon.
From climate models, as well as years of field work, Dr. Echelmeyer had expected a general thinning of the glaciers that would be consistent with Alaska's summer temperature increase averaging 5 degrees over the past three decades. Instead, the researchers found that since the mid-1990's, Alaskan and Yukon glaciers had been dumping enough water into the ocean to raise sea level by 0.2 millimeters a year.
Minuscule though that sounds, it is nearly twice the amount released during the same period by the massive Greenland Ice Sheet. Besides, as Dr. Echelmeyer pointed out, to coastal communities, a one-inch sea-level rise can mean a 500-inch incursion across a nearly flat beach.
"Boy, to find two- or three-times faster thinning," Dr. Echelmeyer said, "that's a huge amount. The contribution of Alaskan glaciers to sea-level change is important, and big."
But why are some Alaskan glaciers growing, while most are shrinking? Much about glacial movement remains mysterious. But in simplest terms, glaciers are a varied lot, each marching to its own geophysical rhythm. Most of Alaska's glaciers, numbering more than 2,000, are valley glaciers, which snake downhill between mountain ridges and are particularly sensitive to climate. "These glaciers can't thin without climate change," Dr. Echelmeyer said.
Others may produce momentous effects locally while not reflecting much of the world's big picture. The Hubbard and the other dozen or so Alaskan glaciers whose termini calve, dropping icebergs into bodies of water, are in some ways the most apparently contrarian. "The Hubbard is in a strong advance mode and it's not affected by the current climate trend," Mr. Trabant said. "Why are certain glaciers really out of step with what we know globally is a shrinkage and retreat of glaciers? It's the Calving Glacier Cycle." The Hubbard's current course of movement began, in fact, 1,000 years ago, when the snout began not an advance but a retreat from the entrance to Yakutat Harbor, 38 miles to the southwest.
Glacier ice is unique, far more plastic than ice in freezers, and it is in constant motion, pulled downhill by its own weight. The length of a glacier depends on the balance between the amount of new snow falling high up, which is transformed into new ice, and the amount of ice lost farther down in what is called the ablation area. In that area, the ice is lost to melting, evaporation and, in glaciers like the Hubbard, also to calving. If much more ice is being formed in the accumulation area above than is being lost to ablation, the snout moves forward: the glacier advances.
"But tidewater glaciers are more complex, because of all this mechanical activity at the snout," said Dr. William Harrison, an emeritus professor of physics and an author of the University of Alaska research. "Climate may provide the trigger, but then what happens doesn't have a lot to do with climate." Dr. Harrison said that 50 years was a "good back-of-the-envelope number" for the time a valley glacier took to adjust to climate change. Tidewater glaciers can take much longer.
A century ago, after 900 years of retreat, the Hubbard began to advance. A glacier that is near equilibrium, with its snout basically marching in place, has an ablation zone that is about 40 percent of the total area. But even after a century, the Hubbard's is just a tenth as large. "It's still so far out of balance," Mr. Trabant said, "that there's no reasonably conceivable change in climate that can keep it from advancing. It just doesn't care." And it is not alone. Other calving glaciers in Alaska are also pressing forward. To the west, Meares Glacier, which ends in Unakwik Inlet, is crashing through an old-growth forest, while Harvard Glacier, which empties into College Fjord, is also advancing smartly.
Back in Yakutat, the townspeople have their own concerns. The Hubbard Glacier last closed Russell Fjord in 1986, which prompted an international effort to save trapped marine animals, including harbor seals and porpoises. The ice dam burst open months later with a catastrophic flood, even larger than the one this August.
But for Yakutat's residents the real worry, then and now, is that a long-term closing of the fjord could raise the new lake water level so high that it overflows ancient spillways at the back of the fjord, flooding the valuable commercial and sport fishery in the Situk River system. Salmon and steelhead fishing on the Situk are Yakutat's financial mainstay.
With this latest closing, most residents accept the Hubbard Glacier's relentless advance and the inevitable formation of a long-term Russell Lake. "They now realize that it's going to happen," Mr. Trabant said.
Many in Yakutat want to bulldoze wider an overflow point that would direct water from the future Russell Lake away from the Situk River system. But this could easily cost many millions, Mr. Trabant said.
Many biologists, and even some townspeople, are advancing a less expensive solution: to welcome this big, new lake that would be connected through the Situk River to the sea.
In this proposal, fishing interests would be paid not to fish for the three to five years that wildlife specialists estimate it will take for the Situk River to restore itself. The result could be an even more abundant fishing paradise than Yakutat has today, state fisheries experts say. "It would be a lot cheaper and it wouldn't be tampering with nature so hard," Mr. Trabant said.
The consequences of tampering with nature are what Dr. Echelmeyer, Dr. Harrison and their colleagues take from their study of Alaska's diminishing glaciers. "These glaciers in Alaska are changing very fast, and probably at an accelerated rate," Dr. Harrison said. "But `why' is the real issue. `Why is it warm?' It's a societal question. But my own opinion is that at a time when we're dumping all this crud into the atmosphere, and changing the surface of the earth, it seems like too big a coincidence to me for us to be innocent — that just when we're getting industrially active, it's the warmest it's been in the last 5,000 years."
Arizona
Sunday Star
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![]() The Associated Press ![]() |
EDITOR'S NOTE - A recent U.S. report to the United Nations on global warming acknowledges that the phenomenon is real and that people must adapt to "inevitable" change. The Associated Press visited six regions of the United States especially vulnerable to climate change to explore the adaptations that may lie ahead. This is the fourth story in an occasional series.
SHISHMAREF, Alaska
Stripped to his shirtsleeves on a desolate polar beach, the Inupiat Eskimo hunter gazes over his Arctic world.
The midnight sun glitters on navy waves surrounding his island village. The town sits amid the ruins of dugouts that his ancestors chipped from the permafrost when pharaohs were erecting pyramids in the hot sands of Egypt.
His children and their cousins play tag on a hummock where his wife's parents and their parents are buried.
Thousands of years ago, hungry nomads chased caribou here across a now-lost land bridge from Siberia, just 100 miles away. Many scientists believe those nomads became the first Americans.
Now their descendants are about to become global warming refugees. Their village is about to be swallowed by the sea.
"We have no room left here," says 43-year-old Tony Weyiouanna. "I have to think about my grandchildren. We need to move."
Weather dictates survival in the Arctic. Always it has been the fearsome cold that meant life or death. Now, Native Alaskans are alarmed by a noticeable warming trend.
Average temperatures in the Arctic have risen more than 4 degrees since 1971 - about the same time, coincidentally, that the first snowmobile made an appearance.
Weyiouanna still remembers, "It was mind-boggling to see a sled move without dogs pulling it."
Snowmobile aside, this is still a very rustic village. Its forlorn breakwater of sandbags, tires and rusting vehicles is often breached by storms. Recently, four homes tumbled into the sea as villagers huddled in the Lutheran church.
Fuel and water tanks teeter just a few strides from the brink. Another gale or two and the entire island - a half-mile at its widest, 10 feet at its highest - could be inundated.
Weyiouanna's ancestors simply would have loaded their dogsleds and mushed inland. But in modern times, moving a town means Shishmaref's 600 residents must vote.
It will cost at least $100 million, the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers says.
It's a staggering sum even by standards of Shishmaref, where a light bulb costs $10 at the Nayokpuk Trading Co. (They're down the aisle from the Pringles and the wolf pelts.)
Residents figure the government will pay, although state and federal officials say no relocation fund exists.
It's an upheaval many Americans might face in coming decades.
In June, the Bush administration submitted a report to the United Nations acknowledging for the first time that climate change is real and unavoidable. The administration recommends adapting.
Still unresolved is whether rising temperatures are caused by smokestacks and traffic jams pumping more heat-trapping emissions into the atmosphere. Or, natural variations in the complex relationship between the oceans, the atmosphere and the sun. Maybe it's a little of each.
In Alaska, signs of warming are everywhere. In some spots above the Arctic Circle, average winter temperatures have spiked 10 degrees since 1971.
Sea ice volume has declined 15 percent and thinned from 10 feet to 6 feet in places. With the ice go staple foods - whale, walrus, seal and waterfowl, even polar bear.
Glaciers are retreating by 15 percent and losing half their thickness every decade. Alaska meltwater accounts for half of the worldwide sea level rise of 7.8 inches in the past 100 years.
Disease and insects encouraged by warmer weather are savaging millions of acres of Alaskan evergreens.
Melting permafrost is buckling roadways and utility poles. The aging 800-mile Trans-Alaska Pipeline needs buttressing.
Not that a little global warming would be entirely bad.
An ice-free Arctic would offer new fisheries and faster shipping. Oil exploration would be easier and farmers could grow more crops.
Barrow, population 4,500, the crossroads of the Eskimo world, enjoys conveniences made possible from oil revenues. Its niceties include running water, indoor plumbing, paved roads, jet service and tourist hotels.
But even with the continent's northernmost Mexican restaurant, Pepe's, Barrow remains a subsistence community at heart.
Bowhead whale skulls the size of delivery trucks stand in silent shoreline tribute to the sea and lost crews.
This year, hunters complain of having to travel 30 miles to find prey. The longer trips burn more fuel and expose them to more danger as the ice melts and drifts offshore. Rescue aircraft already have plucked 100 stranded hunters this year.
The spring whale hunt yielded just three bowhead, and one of those kills was catapulted into the sea when the ice snapped.
One summer morning, rumors of nearby seal and walrus ricochet through town. Men hustle from their offices to haul boats to the water's edge. Schoolchildren bicycle along the beach, cradling rifles.
Offshore, the concussion of what locals call "combat hunting" thumps for hours as the ghostly shadows of outboard launches swerve between shimmering icebergs. Then the real work begins.
In his gravel yard, Eugene Brower unfolds a table padded with layers of grease-soaked cardboard and duct tape.
He is surrounded by four walrus shot that morning, their whiskered heads still sporting ivory tusks.
Gripping a long knife, he carves out slabs of purple meat.
Then he saws the glistening tan blubber. Each fist-size chunk - fat, skin and brown furry hide - is tossed into plastic pails for rendering.
"In this heat, it should go fast," Brower explains, his knife never pausing. "We eat it all. It's good for you. I've got 11 grandkids. I need to put meat on their tables."
Brower, 56, attended Indian school and worked at a national laboratory in Idaho handling radioactive material before returning to raise his first set of sons, now grown.
He mops his round face and bristly mustache with his T-shirt. "When it hit 70 this week, my neighbor bought a fan," he chortles.
His 3-year-old adopted son, Andrew, frolics next to a boat Brower made with sealskins. When Andrew raps the boat with his knuckles, it vibrates like a drum.
A skin boat, called an "umiaq," should be seaworthy for a decade. In this heat, it may not last until Andrew's first hunt five years hence.
The wisdom Brower shares with Andrew will be different from what he taught his older sons.
"The ice is thinner. The air is warmer," Brower said. "When you are out on the ice, you can see the steam rising. And that's something you don't want to see behind you."
Back in Shishmaref, the danger stares Tony Weyiouanna in the face.
The sea constantly gnaws at the sandbar's underbelly. At low tide, children play on the sandbag wall shoring up their jungle gym. Growling bulldozers keep pushing more sand into the tide's path.
The Army has a $3 million plan to rebuild the island's leading edge with bargeloads of rock. But the money can only be used for erosion control, not relocation. The Corps offers to design a breakwater that is more effective. More progressive.
The other option is to move.
On a July morning, three village women open the Bingo Hall and stretch the Stars and Stripes across the wall. They unfold two portable metal voting booths and tack a sample ballot to the door.
It reads: "Do you want to relocate the Community of Shishmaref?"
To vote, "Mark an X to the right of Yes or No."
No dangling chads here.
An hour ticks by. Winfred Obruk, who runs the village generator, wanders in. He drops his ballot into the locked box, tapping the lid twice for emphasis.
At 63, he says he is ready to abandon the only home he's known.
"There's nothing else we can do," Obruk said. "The storms make you feel kind of small. It feels odd to move, but that's nature."
For a valid referendum, Shishmaref needs 40 percent of its 341 registered voters to cast ballots.
The village's median age is about 20. Most youths stay up late hunting, playing video games or cruising the beach on ATVs. By midafternoon, some were rousted to vote. They want to go anywhere, it seems.
"I went to school on the mainland," said Leona Goodhope, 19, "and when I came back, my house was gone. They moved it to the other side of the village, or it would've fallen in."
A new village probably would have indoor plumbing, trash collection and upgraded telecommunications for better e-mail and television, in addition to protection from surly climate change.
Not everyone is eager. Sixty-year-old Clifford Weyiouanna pointed to recent improvements - a school addition, a tannery, an automated laundry.
And what about the cemetery?
"My mother and grandmother are in there," he said. "This is where they were born and lived. I think maybe they should stay here."
At 8 p.m., the election judges put down their copy of the National Enquirer to hand-count the ballots. Outside, a crowd gathered for Bingo.
The vote: 161-20. Shishmaref will move.
Nobody cheered.
The island still could be used as a summer fishing camp, said Tony Weyiouanna. He will become a bureaucrat and coordinate relocation planning.
"We will be putting money into the move," he said, "and not pouring it into the sea."
The vote means the release of $1 million in federal funds to examine the relocation's impact on potential mainland sites.
How the $100 million relocation itself would be funded is a question for the state and Congress.
The favored spot for this expensive move?
Five miles east.
ASHINGTON,
Dec. 2 — On Tuesday, the Bush administration convenes a three-day meeting here
to set its new agenda for research on climate change. But many climate experts
who will attend say talking about more research will simply delay decisions that
need to be made now to avert serious harm from global warming.
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Climate
experts say greenhouse gas concentrations may cause coastal damage as
sea levels rise. Countries like the Netherlands, above, are particularly
vulnerable. |
President Bush has called for a decade of research before anything beyond voluntary measures is used to stem tailpipe and smokestack emissions of heat-trapping gases that scientists say are contributing to global warming.
"When you're speeding down the road in your car, if you've got to turn around and go the other direction, the first thing is to slow down, then stop, then turn," said David K. Garman, the assistant secretary of energy for energy efficiency and renewable energy.
But many climate experts say the perennial need for more study can no longer justify further delays in emission cuts.
"Waiting 10 years to decide is itself a decision which may remove from the table certain options for stabilizing concentrations later," said Dr. Michael Oppenheimer, a professor of geosciences at Princeton.
For example, under today's rate of emissions growth, he and other experts say that certain losses are already probable, including dwindling of snow-dependent water supplies and global die-offs of vulnerable ecosystems like coral reefs, alpine meadows and certain coastal marshes.
Nevertheless, administration officials say further research is still necessary because scientists cannot say exactly what effects human activity will have on global climate and how dangerous they will be. It is worth taking the time to conduct more analysis at least to clarify the balance of environmental and economic risks, they say.
"Science rarely gives enough information to narrow policy choices to a single option, but it can clear away some of the underbrush," said Dr. John H. Marburger III, assistant to the president for science and technology.
Some energy and climate experts have run new kinds of analyses showing that there is still time to avoid the worst effects of climate change while also limiting economic costs involved with an abrupt shift from fossil fuels, the main source of the warming gases.
The meeting, involving hundreds of experts, will be the biggest public airing of arguments in many years.
Most scientists concur on the basics. Atmospheric levels of the heat-trapping gases, mainly carbon dioxide from burning coal and oil, have increased by more than a third since the start of the Industrial Revolution, and there is wide agreement that they will probably double from preindustrial concentrations by the end of the century, driven by energy demands of developing countries.
International and American panels of experts have concluded that these gases have caused most of the warming trend over the last 50 years. But there is still a wide range of projections indicating how much warmer things may get, how storm and drought patterns may respond and what the effects will be on ecosystems, agriculture and health. These uncertainties are unlikely to be dispelled soon. But many climate experts say that some effects can reasonably be predicted and that prudence calls for more action now.
Dr. Warren M. Washington, a senior scientist at the National Center for Atmospheric Research, likened the situation to the debate over smoking's link to cancer.
"Even with smoking, it's still basically a statistical thing," said Dr. Washington, who is chairman of the National Science Board, a panel that advises the White House and Congress. "But vested interests do not want to take action based on early indications, and with climate early indications is what we have."
If greenhouse gas concentrations double, climate experts expect substantial disruptions of ecosystems and water supplies, coastal damage as sea levels rise and intensified drought and downpour cycles. Even more calamitous surprises could lie in store, including disruptions in the Atlantic Ocean currents that help warm Europe.
The experts concede that they cannot say exactly what may happen, or when. Also, changes will probably occur slowly — sea levels rising by millimeters a year, say — so there will be no one event to prompt people to choose a fuel-saving hybrid car over a gas-guzzling S.U.V.
But the warming will have enormous momentum, they say. Unlike soot or sulfur pollution, which falls out of the atmosphere within days or weeks, molecules of carbon dioxide and other greenhouse gases can circulate for a century or more.
As a result, scientists say, allowing things to go on as they are is like making minimum payments on a credit card while still using it: the balance grows and grows.
In the long run, almost all experts agree, stabilizing carbon dioxide concentrations in the atmosphere will be a century-plus process that will necessitate eliminating — or capturing — all releases of carbon dioxide from burning coal, oil and other fossil fuels.
That will require a fundamental shift to energy technologies that do not yet exist. But it also requires emission cuts in the next decade or so, even as trends for such emissions are sharply up.
"We will probably need everything in the tool kit to cut emissions enough to stop the worst things from happening," said David D. Doniger, the director of climate policy for the Natural Resources Defense Council, a private group. "A long-term technology program is definitely in order, but we also need to be acting now with the technology available now."
But the Bush administration is resisting calls for quick action. Its focus on more research comes straight from the president. In his first speech on climate, in June 2001, Mr. Bush defended the need for more research by saying, "No one can say with any certainty what constitutes a dangerous level of warming, and therefore what level must be avoided."
In February, he reaffirmed the country's commitment to pursue the goal of a climate treaty his father signed in 1992: to stabilize greenhouse gas concentrations at a level that will prevent dangerous interference with the climate.
But he has rejected the instrument chosen by almost all other industrialized countries to start on a path toward that goal, the 1997 agreement called the Kyoto Protocol. It requires industrialized countries that submit to its terms to reduce greenhouse-gas emissions by 2012 to levels below those measured in 1990.
Instead, Mr. Bush calls for voluntary actions.
Ten years from now, if scientists still think climate change is worrisome, other strategies may follow, he said.
Although many climate experts say delays are risky, others, including Dr. James A. Edmonds of the Energy Department's Pacific Northwest National Laboratory, have calculated that Mr. Bush's timetable and prompter actions like the Kyoto treaty do not lead to significantly different outcomes in the long run. The most critical challenge by far, he said, is the sharp decline in emissions in midcentury.
Other scientists whose views are embraced by industry say there still isn't enough evidence for quicker action.
"We are still struggling with the `what will be' question, especially at regional scales, which makes answering the `what will be dangerous' question too difficult to handle," said one of these researchers, Dr. John R. Christy, the director of the Earth System Science Center at the University of Alabama in Huntsville.
As a result, he said, any emissions plan should be "economically benign."
The meeting this week is likely to see many clashes between the two camps, with more than 1,000 scientists, industry lobbyists, environmental campaigners and others planning to weigh in.
Sam Thernstrom, a spokesman for the White House Council on Environmental Quality, says the goal is to hear all views before the research plan is finished next spring and a series of two- to five-year projects is begun.
"Anyone who has quibbled with how this plan is put together," he said, "they and the rest of the world are invited to come on down and make suggestions. All ideas will be considered."
Those eager for more aggressive actions say they doubt the meeting will lead to significant policy shifts, particularly now that relevant Congressional committees are controlled by Republicans pushing for more, not less, exploitation of fossil fuels.
They also say that the administration's 170-page research plan (available on the Web at www.climatescience.gov) includes no commitments that adequate money will flow to support new science.
To build a more convincing case for faster action, a growing group of researchers is trying new ways of conveying the risks of certain emissions paths, including pinpointing when actions have to start to stabilize greenhouse gases at particular levels.
The current concentration of carbon dioxide in the atmosphere is 370 parts per million, and the level before industrialization began was about 280 parts per million.
Under what is considered a best-case model, global annual emissions of carbon dioxide will have to start declining by 2020 to stabilize atmospheric carbon dioxide at 450 parts per million. Even at that level, there would probably be substantial losses, Dr. Oppenheimer and others say, including a global die-off of coral reefs.
Societies have probably already missed that turning point, scientists say, and the longer societies wait to act, the higher the eventual greenhouse plateau and the greater the consequences.
If emissions do not start declining until 2033, carbon dioxide concentrations will plateau at 550 parts per million — more than double preindustrial concentrations. That level raises the likelihood of more calamitous consequences, including intensified storm and drought cycles, wider extinction of species and perhaps the eventual freeing of the West Antarctic Ice Sheet, which could raise sea levels a century or two from now 15 feet or more, inundating coasts where most human settlements are concentrated.
In between these extremes, some climate experts and economists see a path that could avoid the worst environmental and economic risks. The problem is that this would depend on a fairly prompt start on emission reductions and aggressive research on finding new sources of nonpolluting energy.
There are other reasons for prompt action, experts say. One is that energy providers like power plant owners plan their investments in new equipment a decade or two ahead of time, said Dr. David G. Victor, the director of the energy and sustainable development program at Stanford.
Another problem with relying on more research, many climate experts say, is the presumption that the extra effort will reveal a "safe" level of greenhouse gases.
Better computer models and observations are likely to refine the menu of impacts, but reducing uncertainty still "doesn't necessarily provide what is needed by decision makers," said Dr. Roger A. Pielke Jr., an expert on environmental risk at the University of Colorado. Society as a whole must answer those questions, he and other scientists say.
"To avoid danger implies a threshold," said Dr. Henry D. Jacoby, an economist at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology and co-director of its program on the science and policy of global change. "But with climate, I don't believe there is one."
"There are so many different effects, in so many different countries, in so many different sectors, affecting so many different processes, affecting so many different people in so many different situations that there's not going to be a clearly defined break point," Dr. Jacoby said.
Dr. Jacoby likened the situation to a doctor-patient conference, when the patient learns that his high cholesterol puts him at risk for a heart attack.
"Is your next question `Tell me exactly when my heart attack is coming and how serious it will be?' " Dr. Jacoby said. "No. You want to know what you can do about it now."
AN
FRANCISCO, Dec. 7 — The melting of Greenland glaciers and Arctic Ocean sea ice
this past summer reached levels not seen in decades, scientists reported today.
This year's summertime melt, which provides more evidence of recent quick warming in the Arctic, is in part driven by natural climate oscillations, the researchers said. But they added that human-driven changes to the environment like the destruction of ozone and the emission of carbon dioxide could well have accelerated and enlarged the effect.
In September, the end of summer, ice coverage of the Arctic Ocean dipped to two million square miles before it started to grow again. Since 1978, when direct satellite measurements of sea ice started, the average summertime minimum has been 2.4 million square miles. Of the sea ice that survived, most was thinner than usual.
"That was probably the craziest summer I've ever seen up there," said Dr. Mark Serreze, a researcher at the National Snow and Ice Data Center in Boulder, Colo., and one of the scientists who presented the findings at a news conference at a meeting of the American Geophysical Union here.
Weather in the Arctic was unusually warm and stormy this year, which broke up ice and melted it more readily. The shrinking fits in with the trend since the late 1970's and general predictions of global warming. "It's the kind of change we'd expect to see," said Dr. James Morrison of the University of Washington in Seattle.
Other data, including some gathered from airplane flights, indicate that the Arctic has not been this ice-free at least since the 1950's. If the shrinking continues at current rates, year-round average sea ice coverage may drop by 20 percent by 2050, and the Arctic may be almost ice-free during summer months, Dr. Serreze said. "I believe we will continue to see reductions in sea ice cover, because I think we are having an effect on the climate," he said. "The rate of that change is debatable."
Other evidence, like melting permafrost and the northward spread of trees, has also suggested that the recent warming is quick and unusual.
The reduction of sea ice is expected to affect global ocean currents. Fresh water from melting ice is less dense than salty sea water and could prevent water from the deep ocean from rising. Open water should also be warmer than ice-covered ocean, because it absorbs more than 80 percent of sunlight that hits it, while ice reflects about 80 percent.
Satellite instruments also observed melting ice over 265,000 square miles of the Greenland ice sheet, exceeding the previous maximum melt area by 9 percent. Ice was melting in areas up to 6,560 feet in altitude that had never shown melting before.
Melted water flows to the base of glaciers, acting as a lubricant that speeds the sliding of the glaciers into the ocean.
In an article in the current issue of the journal Science, scientists at NASA's Jet Propulsion Laboratory in Pasadena, Calif., and the Royal Observatory of Belgium reported that melting glaciers have even changed the shape of the planet. Since 1997, the Earth has become slightly more oblate, like a pumpkin. That reverses a trend since the end of the last Ice Age when, relieved of the crushing ice sheets at the poles, the Earth had been bouncing back into a more spherical shape.
The authors of the Science article wrote that the addition of water melting from glaciers, which then shifted toward the equator, accounted for the squashing of the planet.
ELYSTAD,
the Netherlands — When the telephone rings in this Dutchman's car, chances are
that it is a windmill calling. A windmill?
"It's telling me there's a problem, maybe it has stopped," said Herre van der Meulen, a technician at Nuon, a Dutch utility.
He searches through his laptop, checks the disturbance and sends a telephone signal back to the computer aboard the windmill. Moments later, the blades are spinning again, yielding electricity. "Usually I can fix most problems from a distance," he said.
That he can do his job from afar is a good thing — soon technicians may have little choice. Across wind-swept Northern Europe, hundreds of high-powered turbines are being planned or are under construction offshore, beyond the easy reach of engineers.
"Going offshore is the new trend, and it's huge," said Bruce Douglas of the European Wind Energy Association, an industry group based in Brussels. "The demonstration projects out at sea have been a success. Now people are going for full-scale marine wind parks. Some are close to land, some are so far you can't see them."
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Denmark uses wind turbines like these off the coast near Copenhagen to produce 18 percent of its electricity. |
In the business, the talk is of a veritable rush offshore. Power companies are staking out suitable tracts of sandbanks, reefs and shallow open waters from the shores of Ireland to the Baltic Sea. They are joining with traditional offshore oil and gas companies, including giants like Shell, that have the capability to drill and rig up the 100-ton towers at sea.
Engineers say that wind parks at sea have two main advantages: the wind blows harder and more steadily than on land and there are no residents protesting against great wind parks marring the landscape.
On the Dutch coast near Lelystad, 28 windmills stand in a perfect lineup near the shore, anchored in about 20 feet of water. The swoosh of the wind going over the blades is barely audible, even drowned out by the squawking of the sea gulls.
"It's new, it's clean, it's high tech," said Henk Kouwenhoven, a manager of Nuon, who watched the towers go up in 1996. "The offshore potential is enormous. Here we never run out of wind. It blows 90 percent of the time. The main issue is making it cost-efficient."
Europe's wind-driven energy has been growing at 40 percent a year. With a capacity of more than 20,000 megawatts installed on land, it now represents three-fourths of the world's total wind-power output. Europe hopes to raise this to 60,000 megawatts in the next six years. Much of that growth is expected to come from sea-based turbines.
"It's going so fast now because there is a race to go offshore, with manufacturers and utilities competing for the jobs," said Corin Millais of the European Wind Energy Association. "Companies are now talking of wind fields, like oil reserves or coal reserves, waiting to be tapped. The beauty of it is that it is inexhaustible."
Advocates see the move offshore as an impressive rite of passage in the history of an ancient technology. For centuries, tapping the wind was the domain of the miller, his family and his hand-set sails. Even modern wind energy had humble beginnings in Europe. In the 1970's, it was started by grass-roots groups of often politically motivated investors putting up one or two private windmills. There are still thousands of private owners in Denmark, Germany and the Netherlands.
But wind power is no longer a cottage industry, and the windmills of today are not the charming, stubby kind that once pumped much of this country dry and became a national emblem. These are the modern variety, called turbines, that are becoming sleeker, taller and more powerful by the year.
"The largest turbines now produce 250 times more electricity than the ones built 20 years ago," Mr. Millais said. Today wind provides some 28 million Europeans with electricity, he said, about half of them in Germany, Europe's largest producer.
The European Union has been pushing to develop alternatives to fossil fuels, which are widely believed to contribute to global warming. It wants 22 percent of its electricity — and 12 percent of all energy — to come from renewable sources by 2010, to meet its commitment under the Kyoto treaty to reduce greenhouse gases. In the United States, wind energy has stalled at about one-fifth of Europe's capacity.
Here, wind projects have been encouraged with incentives like tax credits and guaranteed rates, and the emphasis is now shifting offshore. About 100 sea-based turbines are already operating. This year, Britain, Denmark, Germany, Ireland and the Netherlands have all earmarked large offshore sites and issued licenses. Some of the projects are scheduled to be ready next year.
The new endeavors are not without problems or critics. Environmental groups are divided. Some defend the wind turbines as a renewable source of pollution-free energy, while others fear the offshore turbines will disturb fishing and spawning grounds and endanger flocks of birds that migrate at night.
In Britain and Norway, the military has objected to some designated coastal sites, saying that wind parks can produce false radar echoes and disturb telecommunications.
There are other hurdles as well. Offshore turbines may be more productive, but building costs are 50 percent higher than on land and maintenance is difficult in a region where winters bring Atlantic gales. "When waves are up and your boat sways back and forth, it's unsafe to try and get onto the landing platform," said Mr. van der Meulen, the technician who monitors about 200 windmills scattered over a large area, including some at sea. "You can do maintenance work really only in the summer."
Then there is the issue of price. Industry spokesmen contend that, strictly speaking, the price of wind-driven energy is close to being competitive with other sources. They argue that traditional fossil fuels and nuclear energy get enormous hidden or indirect subsidies, to the tune of billions of dollars a year. For example, in some European countries, governments pay for the insurance of nuclear power plants.
While no one expects wind to become more important than traditional power sources, enthusiasts are undeterred, and the growth of wind-powered turbines is likely to continue. Denmark already uses wind to produce 18 percent of its electricity, the world's highest per capita consumption. Britain intends to catch up.
The British have designated 12 offshore turbine sites. Brian Wilson, the energy minister, said studies had shown there is enough wind to provide electricity for the whole country. He said he expected the global market for offshore energy to be worth $12 billion by 2007. Most of that, he said, will be in Europe.
"I don't see anything stopping offshore electricity now," said Mr.
Kouwenhoven, of Nuon, which has teamed up with Royal Dutch Shell in a joint
venture. "Shell knows the offshore business, we know the wind business.
It's just a matter of moving ahead."
limate
experts say global temperatures in 2003 could match or beat the modern record
set in 1998, when temperatures were raised sharply by El Niño, a periodic
disturbance of Pacific Ocean currents that warms the atmosphere.
El Niño that year was the strongest ever measured. A new one is brewing in the Pacific but is expected to remain relatively weak, experts say. Still, they say, a persistent underlying warming trend could be enough to push temperatures to record highs.
Some of the warming could be the result of natural climate variation, but the experts say it is almost impossible to explain without including the heat-trapping properties of rising levels of carbon dioxide and other greenhouse gases emitted by smokestacks and tailpipes.
The mounting evidence of human contributions to climate warming has raised pressure on American policy makers to reconsider their reliance on voluntary measures for reducing heat-trapping emissions.
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The
surface of the vast ice sheet in Greenland melted more last summer than
at any time in the 24 years that conditions had been tracked. |
At a meeting of climate scientists organized by the Bush administration this month, White House officials said President Bush was no longer locked into the stance he announced last year — calling for nothing beyond voluntary measures to slow the growth in emissions until 2012.
And Senator John McCain, Republican of Arizona, and Senator Joseph I. Lieberman, Democrat of Connecticut, plan to introduce legislation early in 2003 that would gradually establish mandatory greenhouse gas restrictions and a system in which companies could trade credits they would earn by making emissions cuts.
The European Union, Japan and most other industrial powers have ratified the Kyoto Protocol, a treaty that, once in effect, will require them to make reductions.
The growing shift toward action in the American debate over greenhouse emissions comes after a decade of mounting evidence that the recent warming is caused mainly by rising concentrations of such substances.
The main means of tracking climate change has been to synthesize hundreds of measurements of surface temperatures around the world into a global average.
This average reading is meaningless for any particular spot, but it is a valuable way to measure long-term trends, and it puts the planet in its warmest period in a millennium, with the trajectory still headed upward.
According to the Commerce Department, the global average surface temperature increased at a rate of about one degree per 100 years over the 20th century, but since 1976 the earth has been warming at the rate of about three degrees per century.
The Hadley Center for Climate Prediction and Research in Britain put the odds at 50-50 for 2003 to match or exceed the temperature record set in 1998. Dr. James E. Hansen, the director of the National Aeronautics and Space Administration's Goddard Institute for Space Studies, put the odds higher than that, barring a big new sun-blocking volcano or the like.
A decade-long paucity of big volcanic eruptions and a peak in solar intensity can account for only part of the overall warming, he said, adding, "Clearly it's primarily due to human forcing."
The global average temperature reached 58.0 degrees in 1998, while the average from 1880 to 2001 was 56.9 degrees.
Preliminary estimates put the global temperature in 2002 at 57.9 degrees.
Areas like Alaska have experienced sharper warming, in patterns that largely match projections produced by computer simulations of the climatic effect of rising greenhouse gases.
The National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration reported this month that satellite tracking of surface conditions on Greenland's vast ice sheet saw more melting last summer than at any time in the 24-year satellite record.
Arctic sea ice also retreated more than it had done before in that span, the agency said.
These time spans are short when it comes to climate, and polar experts say it remains exceedingly difficult to ascribe regional changes to human actions rather than natural cycles in ocean and weather circulation around the Northern Hemisphere.
The continuing global climb in temperatures, however, is getting harder to link to natural climate fluctuations, many scientists say.
Even if 2003 does not set a record, many experts say, it almost undoubtedly will follow a generation-long rise in temperatures that has put the planet on course for substantial shifts in drought and storm patterns, continuing and significant retreats of terrestrial ice, and a resulting rise in sea levels in coming decades.
This month, American and British climate teams and the World Meteorological Organization reported that 2002 would nudge out 2001 as the second-warmest year since the late 1800's.
Some scientists still doubt that the human influence will alter the climate beyond the range of natural variability, which they say has produced significant shifts in past eras and will inevitably do so again.
"We don't really know enough about the climate to say with any confidence how much of this warming is natural and how much is caused by human activities," said Dr. John R. Christy, the director of the Earth System Science Center at the University of Alabama in Huntsville.
But his view is held by an ever-shrinking minority of climate experts, partly because new analyses are questioning some of their conclusions.
In 1990, Dr. Christy and a team that included NASA satellite experts pioneered a method for measuring the average temperature of the atmosphere above the surface, using instruments on weather satellites.
In a series of papers examining three decades of satellite data, they reported cooling or only slight warming, and the findings were highlighted by skeptics of the greenhouse theory among climatologists and policy makers.
A new analysis of the same data by an independent team of scientists suggests that much more warming is under way in the upper atmosphere — more than three times as much as Dr. Christy estimated. These analyses are more in line with surface trends and estimates produced by computer models.
The new results were described in a news release this month by the Commerce Department but have not yet been published in a peer-reviewed journal.
The scientific teams with differing views of the satellite temperature data argued at several scientific meetings this year, including the meeting convened this month by the administration to set priorities for climate research.
At the meeting, Dr. Christy and the head of the other group, Frank J. Wentz, the founder of Remote Sensing Systems, a company that analyzes satellite data for the government, agreed to share more data and information on the way they arrived at their results.
While the debate about the amount of atmospheric warming plays out, there is little disagreement about the extent of warming at the surface.
The shifts around the Arctic — whether natural or human-induced — are profound, said Dr. Waleed Abdalati, NASA's director of polar programs.
"The Greenland melting or the changes in ocean circulation or sea ice, any one of those is kind of a `Wow, that's interesting,' " he said.
"But when you see them collectively and kind of working in concert with one another," Dr. Abdalati added, "that's very significant."
The result could be some significant surprises, he said.
This year, Dr. Abdalati was a co-author of a study showing that the surface melting in Greenland, for example, was unexpectedly accelerating the seaward crawl of the ice sheet as the melt water percolated down through more than a half mile of ice and lubricated the interface between the grinding sheet and the rock below.
Should the Greenland ice continue to accelerate, that could require scientists to change their projections of how much a little warming could raise sea levels.