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A sheet of ice the size of Manhattan tumbled into the sea.

Photographer James Balog and his crew were hanging out near a glacier when their camera captured something extraordinary. They were in Greenland, gathering footage from the time-lapse they'd positioned all around the Arctic Circle for the last several years.

They were also there to shoot scenes for a documentary. And while they were hoping to capture some cool moments on camera, no one expected a huge chunk of a glacier to snap clean off and slide into the ocean right in front of their eyes.


science, calving, glaciers, climate changeA glacier falls into the sea.Exposure Labs

ocean swells, sea level, erosion, going greenMassive swells created by large chunks of glacier falling away.Exposure Labs

It was the glacier calving event ever filmed.

For nearly an hour and 15 minutes, Balog and his crew stood by and watched as a piece of ice the size of lower Manhattan — but with ice-equivalent buildings that were two to three times taller than that — simply melted away.

geological catastrophe, earth, glacier meltA representation demonstrating the massive size of ice that broke off into the sea.Exposure Labs

As far as anyone knows, this was an unprecedented geological catastrophe, and they caught the entire thing on tape. It won't be the last time something like this happens either.

But once upon a time, Balog was openly skeptical about that "global warming" thing.

Balog had a reputation since the early 1980s as a conservationist and environmental photographer. And for nearly 20 years, he'd scoffed at the climate change heralds shouting, "The sky is falling! The sky is falling!"

"I didn't think that humans were capable of changing the basic physics and chemistry of this entire, huge planet. It didn't seem probable, it didn't seem possible," he explained in the 2012 documentary film "Chasing Ice."

There was too much margin of error in the computer simulations, too many other pressing problems to address about our beautiful planet. As far as he was concerned, these melodramatic doomsayers were distracting from the real issues.

That was then.

Greenland, Antarctica, glacier calvingThe glacier ice continues to erode away.Exposure Labs

In fact, it wasn't until 2005 that Balog became a believer.

He was sent on a photo expedition of the Arctic by National Geographic, and that first northern trip was more than enough to see the damage for himself.

"It was about actual tangible physical evidence that was preserved in the ice cores of Greenland and Antarctica," he said in a 2012 interview with ThinkProgress. "That was really the smoking gun showing how far outside normal, natural variation the world has become. And that's when I started to really get the message that this was something consequential and serious and needed to be dealt with."

Some of that evidence may have been the fact that more Arctic landmass has melted away in the last 20 years than the previous 10,000 years.

Watch the video of the event of the glacier calving below:

- YouTubeyoutu.be

Balog has continued documenting changes in the Earth's seas, ice sheets, and other environmental indicators of climate change and spoke with CBS about his work in 2024. "When I started the extreme ice survey, climate change was still seen as a pretty abstract thing," Balog said. "It was something that was going to happen 20 or 30 or 50 years from now and my god when you could start to realize no, it's happening right now right in front of us. It put a real marker in time to say this is now, this is real."

Balog hopes that his photographic record will serve as a record of the present and a message to the future.

"I want to be able to say to those people of the distant future look not everybody in this time in you know 2024 was terribly conscious or cared about climate change," he said, "but I want to be able to say that this mind, these eyes, and this heart was paying attention."

- YouTubewww.youtube.com

This article originally appeared 10 years ago and has been updated.

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Barilla

45 minutes after diving under the ice into the frigid water of the Arctic, Paul Nicklen's body starts uncontrollably shivering.

He can't feel his fingers — or the camera in his hands — at all. The only way he knows he's actually taking pictures is to watch his finger hit the shutter button on the camera.

But he keeps pressing on, taking photos, until the early stages of hypothermia start to set in and everything starts to slow down. That's when he knows it's probably time to wrap up the shoot.


Image by Paul Nicklen via Barilla/While the Water Boils.

Nicklen is a Canadian photographer who has spent much of his career photographing wildlife in frigid polar environments.

"I'm really good at freezing," he jokes.

He's even been away from home for up to 10 months at a time, relying solely on the equipment and food he brought with him to survive. (And what does he eat on those trips? Lots and lots of pasta, he says, because "I can take 90 pounds of pasta into the field and that will last me three months.")

But no amount of shivering, extreme conditions, or any other challenges can keep Nicklen from getting the shot.

"This is my one chance to connect the world to the changing polar regions and that's what drives me," Nicklen told Hannah Hart on While the Water Boils. "If I’m cold and frozen and miserable, I can push past that to get these images."

Image by Paul Nicklen via Barilla/While the Water Boils.

Nicklen’s work is not just about getting a beautiful photograph —  it’s also about education.

Through his art, he wants to draw attention to fragile ecosystems, climate change, and other pressing issues affecting polar wildlife. That's why he takes photographs in some of the world's harshest environments and has had encounters with numerous wild animals, including polar bears, narwhals, leopard seals, and penguins.

In fact, educating others about these issues was so important to Nicklen that it's why he chose to become a photographer in the first place.

"I went off to university to become a biologist," he said, "but I became frustrated that we weren't affecting change with that science."

"I thought if I can become a photographer and if I can get a job with say, National Geographic, now I have the chance to reach a hundred million people to bridge the gap between the important science and the public," he adds.

Paul Nicklen. Image by Paul Nicklen via Barilla/While the Water Boils.

To Nicklen, even something as simple as a caption can help get the word out about important conservation issues.

In fact, he uses his Instagram — which he calls "millennial-bait" — to draw people in through a beautiful photograph and then, while he has their attention, teach them something about the animal or landscape shown through the caption.

With more and more exposure and education, Nicklen hopes he can mobilize others to care about science and conservation, too. And hopefully that can help drive action and change to help combat the issues affecting these polar regions.

Image by Paul Nicklen via Barilla/While the Water Boils.

Nicklen discussed his passion for his work recently on While the Water Boils.

This is a YouTube show where Hannah Hart (YouTube star and author) sits down with people to find out more about their passions. Learn more about him and his photos in this video:

Capturing these stunning wildlife images puts his life at risk, but he does it to shed light on an issue that affects us all.

Posted by Upworthy on Tuesday, August 15, 2017

Nicklen's story shows that there are lots of ways to use your passion — whether it's photography and science or something else entirely — to help make the world a better place.

Even after half a lifetime studying polar bears in some of Earth's least hospitable climates, Andrew Derocher still gets nervous trying to tag a 1,000-pound bear on a frozen slab of ice in the open water.

"[The bears] are not worried about being out there, but it’s just not good enough for us," he says.

Photo by Andrew Derocher.


To human researchers, sea ice may be a rickety death trap, but to polar bears, it's a little like a cross between a superhighway, a forest, and an old memory-foam mattress. It's the surface over which they travel, where they hunt, and occasionally, where they mate.

And increasingly, Derocher warns, there is less of it to go around:

"We can quibble amongst ourselves as scientists, but the overwhelming scientific consensus is absolutely clear: Polar bears are in trouble."

The ice that supports polar bear populations from Canada to Alaska to Russia to Norway is disappearing — rapidly.

Across the Arctic, the trouble signs are difficult to miss. The bears are getting smaller, they're reproducing less frequently, and very young and very old bears are dying at higher rates.

For the past two weeks, Derocher has been tweeting a series of alarming maps and images that illustrate what polar bears are up against.

Like this one that shows in dark red how much sea ice is missing:

And this one that shows the decline of sea ice coverage:

And this one that shows the decreasing number of days with sea ice per year:

Derocher and his colleagues at the University of Alberta use satellite radios to track the bears' movements.

Since the early 1980s, Derocher has studied thousands of bears over thousands of miles. Some of the bears he tracks today are the great-great-grandchildren of the bears he began his career working with.

By monitoring when the bears walk onto the ice and when they return to shore, they can estimate the number of "ice-free" days the bears will see that year. 180 "ice-free" days is considered a danger zone for the species.

"Once we get beyond about 210 days, we probably no longer have sufficient ice to maintain a viable population," Derocher explains.

In Canada's Western Hudson Bay, the no-ice period is hovering around 150-160 days — but, thanks to climate change, that number is jumping up by an average of three to six weeks per decade.

A few extra weeks without access to the ice can mean the difference between life and death for animals that burn up to two pounds of energy every day they're on land.

Less sea ice means the bears have to travel more, which means they have to kill more seals while they can. Since most of their hunting is done on the ice, that window becomes shorter the later the seas freeze — creating a conundrum wherein the bears have less time in which they're forced to hunt more efficiently and productively.

Derocher working on the ice. Photo by Andrew Derocher.

If they fail to hunt enough, their body fat stores won't last the length of the ice-free season. With lower body fat stored, female bears stop producing milk earlier, leading to higher cub mortality.

Derocher's prognosis for the arctic ambassador species is dire.

Within the next few decades, he estimates, there will be significantly fewer polar bears. By the end of the 21st century, there may be such a reduction in the species' range that future populations may or may not be viable.

"Every time we look at a new study, there’s pretty much no good news for polar bears," he says.

With current planetary warming trends, Derocher fears the decline is not reversible in the short term.

Long term, saving the species might mean making some sacrifices — financial, political, or otherwise.

"In our own house, we had to replace some windows, and we opted to pay the extra money for triple pane to save on energy," he says.

Any U.S. push to return to coal, he fears, would be a disaster for the species, although he does see some cause for optimism in recent business efforts to combat climate change.

Ultimately, he believes, polar bear fans simply need to understand what's going on if the species is going to continue surviving against heavy odds.

Photo by Andrew Derocher.

"There’s nothing in the scientific literature that supports anything but grave concern," he says.

The first step toward getting the bears back on track, he maintains, is getting the public to care about conserving sea ice.

The second is people "voting with their wallet" and rewarding companies that are reducing their carbon footprint.

The third is supporting politicians like those in his home province of Alberta who favor policies like higher carbon taxes — though he believes most could be doing much more.

That might be the species' best hope.

"It’s got to change," Derocher insists. "The way we live on this planet has got to change."

Photo by Vince Gx on Unsplash

A sunny day at the Saarland Glacier near the North Pole.

When Richard Krishfield began his career fixing office equipment, he had no idea it would take him to the ends of the Earth.

Then, in 1986, Krishfield, who had spent years working on computers and electronics for businesses, was asked down to the Woods Hole Oceanographic Institute (WHOI) in Massachusetts to work on one of their instruments — a conductivity, temperature, and depth (or CTD) device that collects data from its seat on the ocean floor.

It wasn't the work Krishfield was used to, but it offered an intriguing promise of adventure.


"I thought well, jeez, it might be kind of fun to work on ships and travel the world for a few years," Krishfield says over the phone. 35 years later, he's still doing it.

For over 85 years, the WHOI has been at the forefront of oceanographic study and innovation. Their scientists, engineers, and innovators routinely travel around the globe — from oil spill sites to exotic coastal shores to underwater volcanoes — collecting valuable data and learning how our world works.

Krishfield's work with the WHOI has brought him to some of the world's most extreme places, including the North Pole.

Unlike the iconic images of a massive, globe-spanning, elf-employing, gift-making, reindeer-housing operation run by a jolly man in a red suit, the real North Pole is home to navigators and researchers who brave some of the coldest weather on the planet in the name of science.

Living and working at the North Pole is an intense experience that takes a physical toll on those who venture out there.

Every year, Krishfield and his team spend months at a time camping out in the Arctic, setting up advanced observation instruments that send real-time data back to the WHOI. "Basically they’re sending back what you might consider the weather of the ocean," says Krishfield. And setting them up is no easy task.

"You’re living in a tent on the ice," says Krishfield. "And you don't have things like forklifts, so you have to muscle heavy equipment on and off small airplanes." Those airplanes land on makeshift runways that are cleared out by workers, too. In order for the ice to be thick enough to land a plane on, most of the work has to happen when it's as cold as possible.

"You have to get acclimated to the minus-20 or minus-30 degree temperatures and dress appropriately and know what to do," Krishfield says.

Over his 35-year career, Krishfield has seen firsthand just how much the Arctic is changing.

"Obviously the ice is melting," he says. "And in the 30 years I’ve been going up there, it's very clear how much."

One of the instruments Krishfield has helped set up is a buoy that sits on ice floes and dangles sensors into the water below to measure temperature, salinity, and current velocity of the ocean. When he first started installing them, he and his team would look for ice floes that were up to 4 meters thick.

"Then after a couple years we were looking for 2- to 3-meter floes," says Krishfield. "Then we were looking for 1-and-ahalf to 1-meter floes, and then this last summer, we were out there, and there was hardly any thick ice at all."

Greenland, research, global warming, Arctic, human footprint

Photo taken from a plane over the Jacobshavn Glacier Front in Ilulissat, Greenland

Image via U.S. Department of State/Wikimedia Commons.

Of course, Krishfield and the scientific community have been reporting shrinking ice in the Arctic for a long time. Studies confirmed long ago that the Arctic is warming, that the ice is melting, and just how catastrophic the result of that could be for the Earth's climate and ecosystems.

If the Arctic becomes a seasonal ice cap (where ice melts during the summer and refreezes during the winter), it could throw the planet's weather systems into utter chaos. Scientists estimate that could be the case by 2050.

"Probably sooner than that," says Krishfield.

You don't need to look at satellite data to see how much the Arctic has changed, Krishfield says.

"I look back and think of all the trips we used to do back in the summertime ... it was really beautiful out there," he recalls. "It’d be bright and sunny, and it was just beautiful."

"Now that the ice has melted away quite a bit, what you end up having is very grey, dull, dreary, and sort of foggy days out there. So the whole climate of it has changed."

It's hard to imagine that human beings could have any effect on the North Pole — as far away from it as we are — but we can and we do.

Arctic sea ice loss has been directly linked to carbon emissions, and saving the Arctic is a matter of cutting down those emissions quickly and dramatically. The North Pole is so extreme and so far away that we hardly ever think about it — let alone wrestle with the true global impact of what would happen if we let it melt. Odds are, the North Pole only comes up in conversation around Christmas — and not exactly in a "lets save the Arctic ice cap" context.

If you find hope in one thing though, consider the fact that human beings really can have an impact on the Arctic, for worse — or for better. Our actions have brought the Arctic Ocean to the brink, but it's the actions we take next, along with the hard work of scientists and researchers like Krishfield, that save it.