Reykjavík Grapevine - 01.02.2019, Blaðsíða 19

Reykjavík Grapevine - 01.02.2019, Blaðsíða 19
19 The Reykjavík Grapevine Issue 02— 2019 The Okjökull glacier died in 2014. It wasn’t the first Icelandic glacier to pass away. Some estimates say that up to ten named bodies of ice have previ- ously expired, along with countless more that were unnamed. But Okjökull was the biggest, so far. Over a period of years, Okjökull melted faster than snowfall could accumulate into new ice. The glacier became thinner each year until, even- tually, the ice in the bowl of the shield volcano stopped moving. No longer shifting under its own weight to create glacial currents, Okjökull became still—a once-living mass that glaciolo- gists refer to as “dead ice.” The “jökull” was stripped from its name accordingly—today, the 1200m peak in Borgarfjörður is now known simply as “Ok.” Standing at the foot of the snow- bound mountain as the sun starts to set on a freezing January evening, I turn and scan the landscape. In the distance, some of Ok’s surviv- ing siblings can be seen. The dizzying protrusion of Eiríksjökull mingles with the clouds way up at 1672m, glowing bright against the amber sky. Closer by, the graceful 1360m sweep of Langjökull blushes pink in the sunset as it slides away to the horizon like a giant frozen wall. In the frigid midwinter, these peaks seem unassailable. It’s hard to imagine that such vast bodies of ice could melt away entirely, becoming seabound meltwater rivers, revealing the gnarled and naked rock beneath. But that’s exactly what the scientific community tells us is already happening. It’s also, I think to myself, what people probably once thought about Ok. NOT OK Iceland has 269 named glaciers, from the vast ice cap of Vatnajökull with its many tongues and outlets, to the towering, famously volcanic Eyjafjal- lajökull overlooking the south coast, and the much-admired snow-hooded Snæfellsjökull, perched on the west- ern Snæefellsnes peninsula. They’re studied and monitored by a variety of organisations who funnel their data to the Icelandic Met Office, Veðurstofa. Tómas Jóhannesson is the head of Veðurstófa’s glacier group and one of the people who collates the flood of information, and examines the complex ramifications. “Ok is the larg- est named glacier to officially disap- pear,” he says, in his Reykjavík office. “Some snow patches remain, but a glacier is by definition a mass of ice so heavy that it flows under its own weight, and has some dynamics. The patches around Ok have become so thin that they sit there without move- ment, and therefore no longer qualify as a glacier.” Since the mid 1990s, rapid thin- ning has been a near universal trend in Iceland’s glaciers, with 95-100% of Iceland’s glaciers decreasing in volume annually. One of the most well known cases is Sólheimajökull, a long and serpentine glacier tongue of Mýrdal- sjökull that winds its way down to within a few kilometres of Route One. “The overall retreat there is 1.5km, and this is a typical variation,” says Tómas. “Iceland’s total glacier-covered area has shrunk by roughly 2000 square kilometres since the end of the 19th Century. We lose about 40 square kilometres annually, which is quite a remarkable area to become deglaciated each year.” I remark that it sounds like Sólhei- majökull could be headed for the same fate as Ok. “It’s a part of the larger Mýrdalsjökull ice cap,” says Tómas. “So the outlet will retreat to higher eleva- tions, where the accumulation area is. But this entire valley will be ice-free, in the end.” SERIOUS CONSEQUENCES Iceland’s glaciers have always been through periods of accumulation— when snowfall adds new ice to the glacier—and ablation, when the rate of melt and downwasting exceeds the production of new ice. The measure- ment of accumulation against ablation to determine a glacier’s size is known as mass balance, which fluctuates naturally. “The history of Iceland shows alter- nating cool and warm periods,” says Tómas. “This has always been the case. But anthropogenic, man-made global warming is now of such a magnitude that it’s pulling our climate outside of the natural variations. We’ve had ice ages, and warmer periods than now, which demonstrates that the Earth’s climate goes through large changes. We know that Iceland was completely ice covered during the ice age. We know roughly the causes that led to the ice age, and what forcing in All around the country, the glaciers are rapidly melting. What would deglaciation mean for Iceland’s future? Iceland Thaws Words: John Rogers Photos: Timothée Lambrecq
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