What is the main domestic problem on expeditions? Where does a researcher feel at home—in St. Petersburg or in the Arctic? Is the image of a polar explorer true?—We interviewed Igor Vasilevich, junior research fellow at the Department of Hydrology of estuaries and water resources of the Arctic and Antarctic Research Institute (AARI).
Igor is a repeated participant of expeditions to the north, is fond of photography and maintains a group Cryosphere in VK, where he publishes his works and notes. He is currently writing his thesis Interannual variability of water balance elements in the rivers of the Gren Fjord basin, Svalbard.
— I've lost count. You could say that every year there are two or a big one.
I've been to Severnaya Zemlya four times, that was also my first expedition. In Svalbard seven times, probably. And I was also on the MOSAiC international expedition.
— There were years when the total time spent in the Arctic was more than half a year, but there were also part-time jobs. I worked mostly seasonally. So I don't winter.
— The wintering team usually goes on an expedition for a year. These people come, as a rule, in autumn, spring, summer. It depends on the peculiarities of the expedition logistics: one thing in Antarctica, another in the Arctic.
Seasonal teams include specialists who are mainly engaged in short-term research relative to wintering. These are oceanologists, geophysicists, hydrologists, special meteorologists, palaeogeographers, glaciologists and many others. Their expeditions last from two weeks to six months. Hydrologists usually work half a year, from April to the end of September.
Here are the main differences. The winter staff includes all the technical personnel who are engaged in maintaining the base's performance: mechanics, technicians, building maintenance engineers, station manager. There is also a cook, if the station has its own kitchen. If not, as on Svalbard, there are no cooks there, there is a cafe.
— Novy Urengoy, I didn't get as far as Tazovsky, unfortunately. Then there was Yamal, Khatanga, Cape Chelyuskin, Khastyr field base in Khatanga Bay, Lake Taimyr.
— Yes, it can be done quite freely. If it is connected with work, no problem.
You have to submit your observation programme in advance, designate the area, register the programme with the Norwegians. They approve it, and now they have started to monitor the implementation of the programme.
— It is easy to go on expeditions, but you have to prepare them, you have to process them, you have to write articles, you have to defend your thesis (if possible).
The order is as follows: a programme is written, it is agreed upon in the department. Equipment is purchased (this purchase can take years). This is a very difficult thing, because the equipment must be tested. Now we also experience the sanctions—we cannot buy devices that we used to buy before.
— This expedition was done by the Germans with the help of the Russians. The point is: the whole world knows that there were Soviet drifting stations, the Germans liked them, and they wanted to do the same.
Then they realised that the prospect of an expedition was huge. As a result, they made a large expedition, where they invited scientists from all countries. There was a selection process, of course. At the expedition they also made a school—20 students—to gather young scientists and in the future to create an international network. The Norwegians, by the way, ignored this expedition, because they had tried to launch something similar before.
What was the point: a ship is frozen into an ice floe, and from it sampling and various observations are carried out according to the scheme 'ice, atmosphere, biology, ocean'. We helped in setting up the observation network, worked and learnt on the ship for a month. We probably spent a week or ten days on the ice.
I am an active person, as I came from music, so it was easy for me to find common language with foreigners.
— Yeah, played in a band a lot. We played punk and shoegaze.
I always liked the bass, the combination of the rhythm section, the melody…. The bass is the link between the guitar, the vocals and the drums.
— I did, but it was broken as a result. I took my very first guitar with me on the expedition, which I bought when I was 14—an Epiphone Les Paul. They wouldn't let me on board the plane with it because 'I didn't list the guitar in my luggage'. I didn't want to send it home, so I paid for its transport to Svalbard at my own expense, they put a 'fragile' mark on it, but what I saw on arrival—the head of the fingerboard was broken off….
By the way, after the very first expedition, in 2015, I bought myself a bass guitar. And I bought it from a man called Igor. It's very possible that he was the creator of the band Leningrad [a popular band in Russia], and at that time he had Shnurov playing bass. I never realised whether it was a lie or not, a joke or not, but the person I bought it from was quite serious.
The guitar itself is a Fender Precision Bass, fireburst colouring. I didn't take it on the expedition, because it was my only normal instrument in my life: the guitar is indeed Japanese, the serial number checks out.
Now it's in St Petersburg, rather. It used to be in an expedition… With age it is more and more difficult to perceive, because in order to be able to influence the course of the expedition more, to realise yourself more or to educate someone you have to solve a lot of systemic gaps…
The key gap right now is the age gap. There are 20 years between me and the eldest above me. Where are these three generations of polar explorers? Where have they gone? There are 10 years between me and the guys I teach…
— Polar explorers who will continue my work on expeditions. To finish my thesis, I still need to be at home in St. Petersburg.
— We do it all the time. I'm writing a thesis on Svalbard, I like Svalbard and its snow, but I probably already know everything there by heart. But I would like to have other scientific research as well: for this I need to prepare a shift. I am currently training two students from a master's programme.
— As I get older, it becomes more and more difficult: it's both good here and there. When I travelled a lot, for six months or more: I just had time to get used to it, just adapted, and then I had to go again.
Although, in principle, summer in Svalbard is the same as in St. Petersburg. I can't say that it's very cold there. I would say that the winter is just a bit longer. There is a short spring (about two weeks) and then immediately summer.
— Yes, more like Russian spring. It's the summer, the polar day, that's the hardest. Some people say they don't feel the effects of the sun, it's fine for them, but I get tired and can't sleep because of the light.
I was once told, 'Have you tried closing your eyes?', but the sleep mask doesn't help me and neither do the blackout curtains, it's all wrong: the body reacts to the light. It's a bit mentally draining.
— Certainly not the cold. On Severnaya Zemlya, maybe. In Antarctica, the cold is a very dangerous factor. But sleep is not such a difficult problem either.
The most difficult factor, actually, is the human factor. I am a romantic, when I went to the expedition for the first time I thought: 'Now I will fight bears, ice, rocks with men shoulder to shoulder'. In general, I thought that the key problem was man versus nature, but it turned out not to be so.
The key issue is man versus man. If you do not help each other, if you are not thoughtful about safety, nothing good will come of it.
— Yeah, yeah, we always rewatch it with my colleague. It's part of our 'team building'.
— On the contrary, the tougher the conditions, the stronger the team. Nevertheless, I have heard of some pretty tough conflicts between people, but they always find a resolution and compromise.
There is always a resolution. Otherwise, the conflict repeats until it does. Polar explorers are energy efficient people, they don't need to waste themselves on silly things.
— The novel Burning Daylight by Jack London, he is an amazing writer. I once read an essay about him in a Soviet book, learnt about his past and almost wept. Poor man.
Nevertheless, I am a supporter of realism, for me such scenery is not necessary. All the same, the main problem is man against man. In London's novels and stories, this problem is also evident.
And my favourite book in general is Stanislav Lem's Fiasco, I just read it on an expedition when I had to write my final qualification paper… A terrific book, very powerful, I recommend it.
— It always varies. I had very little free time, especially if I had to do snow measuring work. A lot depends on the weather.
— I used to ask myself the same question, but on this year's expedition I realised: "How I like to dig and poke snow, to go where no one else goes. I love applying my skills and experience to something useful."
I see meaning in my work. This year, though, a new challenge has arisen—learning how to pass on my knowledge. I realised that I can't pass on in one month what I've known for ten years. It's incredibly difficult.
— No, I can't say. Except the memes are different. No, okay, the memes are the same.
— In six-something months, I don't think so, no, it doesn't change.
— On Svalbard the connection is amazing—broadband internet is free, someone even downloaded Baldur's Gate 3.
If you take Severnaya Zemlya, there's paid internet. It's expensive, but people use it, read the news and use messengers. In general, there is communication there.
When I went there in 2015-2016, I didn't go online at all. It was so good, immersing myself: working on myself, watching how you communicate with people, how you run from bears….
— It was on Severnaya Zemlya, yes. Safety rules are certainly the same everywhere, but sometimes people may violate safety rules. For various reasons, but first of all because of the human factor.
I have a saying: it's hard to make a mistake in the Arctic, but the price of a mistake can be the highest. And you can look at the sun through a telescope twice.
— On Severnaya Zemlya bears were seen regularly. On Svalbard, very rarely. The main rule when you meet a bear is not to run away from it, thus you will not provoke its chasing instinct.
It also happens in Severnaya Zemlya: when you sleep, you get a shout on the radio: "Everybody pay attention—there is a bear in the galley." And there really is a bear sitting there, it has been chased by dogs, and it has nothing to do with them. Tired dogs are sitting next to it. It's a stalemate.
— You always have to look round. For the first four years after Severnaya Zemlya, I was like this: when I went outside, if it snowed, I looked around as a matter of habit.
There is no doubt that bears are intelligent animals. Generally, when meeting a bear, I was on a transport, and we quickly moved away from each other. And so, you should shoot a rocket launcher in the air or a signal shot from a rifle between you and the beast. The main thing is not to shoot behind his back. They are curious and often go to the station not to hunt, but just to see: "What is it?" Then they see the dog and run away.
If he does not attack you at once, it means that he is probably not hunting. If you don't run from him, you're fine. If you run, he has an instinct… You don't want to provoke him. All the manuals say, "Don't run!"
— Walruses, whales (incredible creatures), seals. Arctic foxes, of course. Lots of reindeer.
Severnaya Zemlya has its own reindeer, they are more slender than in Svalbard, it is important for them to run fast to survive.
I also heard on Severnaya Zemlya that a wolf walked a kilometre from the station—the legendary polar wolf, 'a monster the size of a bear'.
— In 2017 or 2018, I went to Novy Urengoy. It seemed to me—I'm an experienced polar explorer, I come out and it's minus 60 degrees. My arms were falling off. I could hardly get to the place and made a monitoring, and the men there just quietly worked outside. The wind blows, they work. Here are the polar explorers.
— No. Depends on a person. Someone, for example, for cultural and aesthetic reasons can't imagine himself unshaven. Everyone has a different way, no one complains to each other, does not say anything.
In 2018 on the Severnaya Zemlya there was a funny case: I made myself a horseshoe moustache, like Hulk Hogan. And that's it, the next day—someone has a neat beard, someone has a twisted moustache, someone has a brush under his nose… It was a moustache and beard festival. And everybody's sitting around at breakfast and judging each other.
It's a team. I'm used to it, that people will do anything just for a laugh. Everything human is not strange to these men…
— I don't hide there from the real world. Many people hide, however, many go away for a long time: there you don't have to think, you have everything ready. But I suffer there, I suffer here (kidding).
— I took photos first on a Nokia Lumia 520, an old phone. At the same time I was shooting on film: my mum gave me a film camera — a Vilia-auto. A gorgeous camera, very simple.
After 2019, a colleague got a DSLR, I liked his shots, and I decided to try it too. I bought myself a Canon 600D with a kit lens. I still use it to this day. It's my workhorse. Then I also bought a small telephoto lens.
In 2021 was the first expedition where I started taking photos with a DSLR. I shot ten thousand frames there. And I shoot in automatic mode: in the summer, there is so much light in the Arctic that you can't get err—you don't have to choose the parameters. For shooting in the dark, I switch to manual mode and play with the settings.
I entered and won a couple of competitions with my photos. The biggest one was in Moscow.
— I don't agree with that thesis. It's a bit grotesque. I believe that everyone can achieve certain heights in everything if they try. Everyone is talented in their own way.
Of course I shoot for myself, but I'm glad when photos get a life outside my archive. I've always wanted to leave my mark on human history—I like the idea of it.
Another example: I recently finished a huge document on science standards. I'm tired, but so glad it's finished! This is simply my contribution to science and to the methodology of our institute.
— It is very important now. A bunch of documents, methodological ideas and concepts have been written that are still very relevant. This is done to make any measurement in any network relevant.
For example, you measure the temperature here, you measure it there—this way you can be sure that it is the same device, the same method. It can all be compared.
Standardisation is not made to ruin freedom. If you have to make a special observation, do what you want. Just describe it.
I give credit to those great people who did the previous standards, because when I refer to old documents from the 1950s, 60s, 70s, people ask me, 'What's the old stuff you brought?' I reply that no one has come up with a better one yet.
— I was leafing through the photos for my report today and caught myself thinking that I like my work, I like expeditions. I will not hide it, I am a bit worried: personal life and expeditions do not fit together in any way.
I plan to go for one or two months at the most. Now everything is tied up with the fact that I don't have enough time and I have to write my thesis. Expedition is always difficult. Still, a month of my favourite snow-measuring would be optimal.
— I'll highlight two. The first one was in 2018, Severnaya Zemlya, I was the leader, no one prevented me from working, and it was amazing, full freedom of action, full freedom of realisation to work the way you want—a lot, qualitatively and with meaning. And I was very lucky with my colleague. I was happy.
The second expedition was in 2022, and I went to Svalbard for the first time as a chief with my team, which I had assembled myself.
The interview was conducted and prepared by Dmitry Tarasov
Also read the publication:
Science Beyond Politics
