30 September 2011
Homeward bound aboard the Arctic Sunrise
My day begins at 3.30am when Po’ Paul bangs on my door, pulls it open and says as loud and cheerful as anyone could manage at that time: “Good Morning, it’s 3.30 and fresh coffee is ready upstairs”. I turn over and answer – in similar strain – “Okay!”
It's the beginning of my watch when I join the first mate on the bridge to be his second pair of eyes. Every hour on the hour I'll do a round to check the boat is safe. With a torch I lurch from port to starboard, bow to stern. I check the temperature, the engine room, the various doors to the deck and the waste room. Finally I stumble to the kitchen (‘mess’ in boat-talk) to make Second Mate Paul a cuppa - two sugars, lots of milk and leave the tea bag in.
At 7.30 it's time to give the rest of the crew their wake-up knock and cheery yell before resuming my seat in the bridge. 8am it's my turn to wind down to sleep - a bowl of museli, an Internet check, a cigarette on deck before falling into my bunk.
Noon comes and I'm woken up for lunch. Half an hour later and the afternoon work begins. This can take various forms - all involving cleaning. Yesterday I cleaned the floors, walls and ceilings, today I emptied the fridge and freezer, cleaned the floors, walls and ceilings, and repacked. Tomorrow I've been promised a go at welding...
At 3 we take a tea break and then it's back to work until 5.30. From 4pm I'm back on watch (this time til 8pm) so am juggling the end of my cleaning with keeping the first mate company on the bridge. At 6pm it's a hurried dinner and then when 8pm comes I drink two beers, smoke a cigarette and go to bed ready for my 3.30am wake up call.
I'm sailing home with the Greenpeace ship: Arctic Sunrise. The crew are superhuman. Daily I am more impressed by their strength, conviction and power (physical and emotional). It's a big struggle to keep up!
The Greenpeace ships are the holy grail of activism. One of my earliest memories is a Greenpeace fundraiser at our front door. I remember begging my mum to give them money and her saying she couldn't because they were eco-terrorists who broke the law. From then on 8 year-old Tamsin was a staunch supporter of Friends of the Earth. It wasn't until some ten years later, watching a viral of their direct action that my mother's attitudes were dislodged and I imagined how it might feel to stop a bad thing from happening; to bear witness and know that through your actions the whole world would bear witness too.
The ships are where Greenpeace began - its origin and its roots since 1971. The crew are sailors and activists - separate from the need to play politics in the national offices - they have all of the space of the ocean to be radicalised and remain radical. As one crew-member said: “we're the heart of it. Otherwise Greenpeace would be just another NGO”.
We met the Arctic Sunrise on the pier at Longyearbyen just two hours before their scheduled departure back home to Amsterdam. They had been in the Arctic for two months with scientists from Cambridge who were measuring the volume of sea ice: the lowest volume on record. I hopped aboard - discovered their direction - and begged the captain for a ride. The alternative was three weeks on various cargo ships. After two incredible weeks with the Nowhereisland team, I was in a rush to get home. I've rarely felt more energetic or inspired.
The expedition, the discussions, our community and the founding of a nation have given me a massive hope that a lot of good people desire an alternative. It becomes more and more evident that our current models of nationhood are inadequate to cope with the crises born from one small world and one ballooning and disconnected population. It's impossible to predict the future but one thing is clear as I sit midst activists on a ship sailing south. The difficult questions can't just belong to these radical voices. Now we need to pile in and work out the solutions and then begin to forge them.
29 September 2011
Alex Hartley: Displacement
So we're back.
I'm trying hard not to let even a speck of dust settle, trying to agitate to
keep the sun-lit air full of the memories and experiences we gathered. But
gravity is already taking hold. I'm desperately trying to retain some of the
clarity of air and thought, the vastness and lack of scale, the rocking of
the ship and the excitement of our venture.
We gathered the territory, and we are now bringing it back to the studio to
build Nowhereisland. Like sculptors and craftsmen before us, we went out and
sourced our material. We searched for it and found it - the most rare,
precious and special material we could imagine; rocks and stones that had
been laid down and hidden for thousands of years beneath the ice. Rocks and
stones which hold a story of the fragility of our world.
We will now begin to work with this raw material - to sculpt, form and
build the floating island.
The goal and challenge is for the sculpture to retain the strangeness of its
origin, for the material from which it is made to hold the story of its
newness and the journey it is now taking.
When all land on earth was one mass - Pangea, it is believed that the land
that is now Svalbard was closer then to the south pole than it is now to the
north. Our island has moved ever northward as the continents divided. There
are rocks amongst those we collected that were formed in the desert on the
equator and some that are older even than the fossil record. Older than life
itself.
Like a piece of moonrock in a museum vitrine. Nowhereisland must now begin
to tell the story of its journeys.
27 September 2011
Tania Kovats: Home Birds
It was a long stretch of a journey from the High Arctic back to home, finally laying my head down at around 3am this morning. Only slept for a few hours before the sound of blackbirds woke me, their sweetness pulling me back up from sleep. Initially, I no idea where I am. Why isn’t my bed rocking? After days and nights of the sound of water passing by my head, the generator’s vibration, and the lullaby of the ship moving through the ocean, everything was alarmingly still. My head is still swaying. I feel slightly seasick, and there’s a weird lean to my movements as I start unpacking smelly thermals and rank socks.
Stepping outside the trees are amazingly large and complex compared to the trees on Svalbard which are 2cm high willows. So much is growing and living in such a small area compared to where we have come from. Sure all the expedition team sense this, this morning wherever they are waking up. Birdsong seems to be coming from everywhere and I’m pleased that the swallows haven’t left yet. But my thoughts keep returning to the Ivory Gull, the one that flew over us when we were on the island. Its a bird that never leaves the Arctic Circle, feeding on scraps left by the polar bear kill, nesting in glacier cliff faces, and the whitest thing I have ever seen.
The Arctic is our canary in the coalmine. I’d heard this said before without appreciating what it meant. The place we have come back from is where we can most easily read the damage we are doing to the planet; being home has meant I this see that this is our corrupting connection to there, and the urgency of its connection to here.
25 September 2011
Day 15: Claire Doherty
This communication would not have been possible without the support of Iridium.Com
25 September 2011
Day 15: Alex Hartley
Today we arrived in Barentsberg, a Russian mining town kept open solely for strategic reasons. Virtually no coal remains here. The collection of Soviet buildings have been largely abandoned to the coal dust and slush - awaiting the covering of snow that will temporarily cloak the decay of the town. A northern outpost, keeping Russian interests alive to future polar territorial claims.
It feels so like the early stages of the ruins we’ve seen elsewhere - trapping, whaling, mining and exploration – industries and endeavours left behind as the world to the south no longer requires the resource they pursue or it becomes too scarce to be viable.
On the 19th we holed up at Vergohamner, the jumping off point for previous polar expeditions. We visited the remains of the polar explorer Andre’s balloon hangar, and the skeletal framework of Wellman’s zeppelin shed. Andre’s body was discovered thirty years after his departure to reach the north pole, with diary intact- he had crashed onto the ice, and died sometime later after eating uncooked nematode-infected bear meat.
From this sheltered bay we chose to head north to International Waters. The arrival at the exact point where Norway’s territorial sovereignty ends and Nowhereisland was declared felt both real and genuine – our excitement and exhilaration completely unstaged.
We’re a day away from our return to Longyearbyen - our starting point two weeks ago. We return with the territory of our new nation, a declaration and the starting points for the constitution. We’ve set up the structures for so much of how Nowhereisland will function and how the citizens will have a voice.
We’ve battled against the wind for virtually every day of the trip, too much of it or not enough, or from the wrong direction. We were forced to head north from Longyearbyen instead of south, but still ended up fighting the wind for the three days and nights it took us to get to the island. For one whole four hour watch we made no progress at all, held stationary by the elements. These last days however we have had no wind at all, allowing us smooth passage through beautiful enormous horizontal vistas.
For the whole expedition our team has come together in a manner exceeding all my expectations. I think none of us knew how it would go, but the suppression of individual egos to benefit the project and the absolute commitment to the task of gathering the territory and the long days of debating has been incredible. The expertise and experience of the team has been humbling to witness and to have this collective attention and focus directed solely on Nowhereisland has blown me away.
When I came to the Arctic with Cape Farewell, I searched for and found a new island. At that moment I absolutely knew I’d be back, and that to carry this project through could only happen with collaboration and openness. The simple ‘what if’ idea that I had was to gather the island and to take it south in search of its people.
This idea somehow has room to accommodate and encourage input, and enough space to allow these contributions to coexist. At times this has been challenging to me as an artist - to be open to co-authorship and collaboration, but where the project sits at the moment after all this work from the team is so much richer for everyone’s input.
Build it and they will come!
Alex
This communication would not have been possible without the support of Iridium.Com
25 September 2011
Day 15: Back in Longyearbyen: Claire Doherty
We arrived in Longyearbyen to grey mist once again. Our expedition at an end, the team are both elated and exhausted by the last 14 days. The island territory is about to make its way across Barents Sea and on to the UK. Tamsin had an extraordinary stroke of luck - with half an hour's notice - she hitched a lift on the Greenpeace ship - Arctic Sunrise - on its way back to Amsterdam - shaving two and a half weeks off her return sea voyage. Her elation at joining fellow environmental activists and research scientists was emotional to witness. It's a strange feeling to be returning to the UK knowing that many conversations have been circulating about Nowhereisland in the press. But overall, this expedition is just the beginning of the story of Nowhereisland.
Ten months from this day, on the 25th July 2012, Nowhereisland will arrive in Bowleaze Cove in Weymouth. The work and research undertaken on this voyage will accompany the island in the Embassy - the land-based vehicle. As Nowhereisland makes its way around the South West coast, the Embassy will arrive with the island's collection of objects, photographs, maps, videos, music, stories, propositions and books which we've gathered here. Kim, one of our expedition team, will be driving the Embassy and has been at the forefront of discussions about how we can share the experience of the origins of this island. I've been struck by the precarious nature of the High Arctic - the ways in which it is impacted by our actions at home and in turn how we are effected by this place - our futures are linked inextricably. We have an vital and urgent story to tell - of the origins of this new land, of the contested nature of these waters, and the implications of climate change, of our heated debates about democracy, forming a constitution, about citizens' rights and responsibilities. Svalbard will always be firmly at the heart of this project. It is an impossibly beautiful, complex, vulnerable place - it demands we listen to its stories.
This communication would not have been possible without the support of Iridium.Com
24 September 2011
Day 14: Charlie Logan / Lydia Kate Maloney
Today we kicked things off early and got started on the content for the online Embassy - our corner being 'origins'. This included the Nowhereisland 'creation myth', read beautifully by Kieran Kirkland. After a well deserved lunch cooked by the lovely Sonia we enjoyed the breath-taking view of the biggest glacier we've seen so far! Getting back to work we began to construct the presentation we will later show to our school and any other place that requires us. After an absolutely splendid lasagne (which Charlie had more than his fair share of) we held the first ever Nowhereisland's-got-talent, this included magic acts, poems, songs, balancing acts and stand-up comedy. Simon Cowell eat your heart out!
This communication would not have been possible without the support of Iridium.Com
22 September 2011
Day 12: Carl Gardner: Constitutionalism
If you had the chance to write a nation's constitution from scratch - what would you include in it? The Nowhereisland expedition team has been asking itself that question since Wednesday, when we sat down to work out how we could possibly deliver on the commitment we made the day before, when we declared the existence of our new nation. The declaration said our constitution
is and will be cumulative and consensual, open to all citizens and subject to change during the nation's lifetime.
The biblical sounding "is and will be" representing a compromise between those of us who thought our constitution was not yet in existence, and those who believed our and we knew what we meant at the time - or thought we did. But implementing it, like implementing any policy and fulfilling any legislative drafting instructions, is more difficult than we imagined. For two days we've bickered and quibbled like Jim Hacker and Sir Humphrey - each of us adopting one role one moment, the other the next.
We've always been clear that as a new kind of nation, created in response to the failure of traditional nation-states to tackle global issues, Nowhereisland should not have a traditional, enlightenment-style constitution embodied in a fixed and sacred text. We're very conscious that we're simply a lucky few citizens (there are just over two thousand as I write) who happen to be tasked with unfurling the sails for Nowhereisland's voyage. We know that historically constitutions have taken years to draft, and in their relative fixity have represented significant power claims by one generation over another. Think, for instance, of how the 18th-century founding fathers tower over American life today.
We want instead to using the web to invite all our citizens to share in the work of constitutionalism – and have tasked the curators of the Nowhereisland art project with finding the technical means of delivering that vision. We want all citizens to be able to submit propositions for the constitution. We expect they’ll come forward with all manner of rights, idea and principles from obligations towards the environment to new ways of thinking about human dignity and fairness, from the very practical to the utopian. Nowhereisland is about exploring what a new nation could be – in constitutional terms as well as any other. We're making our own proposals now, but claim no priority over other citizens. We want to put our ideas forward in just the same way every citizen will be able to, in time.
I’ve put forward two propositions already – the "ring the bell" principle, and the right to be silent – and hope they’ll appear on the web before long. When the first phase of implementation is complete, you’ll be able to comment and approve of our initial propositions – and to make your own. All you need to do is join us as a citizen.
This communication would not have been possible without the support of Iridium.Com
22 September 2011
Day 12: Charlie Logan / Lydia Kate Maloney
Straight after breakfast we got started on our seven principles of Nowhereisland’s constitution. We are very happy with the finished product. We then learnt that our acting careers were over before they began when the news of us not appearing on BBC Spotlight spread. Our interview piece was cut out so they could start a debate about how schools should be involved when ours and one other school, Budmouth College in Weymouth has already got a whole years work around Nowhereisland scheduled. Duhh brains!!! Other than that we had a very pleasant day in Nylondon, an abandoned British marble mine.
This communication would not have been possible without the support of Iridium.Com
21 September 2011
Day 11: Sam Thompson
After sailing through the night, this morning we found ourselves looking over yet another fist-bitingly beautiful view. The peculiar grinding noises that roused us early in the morning were revealed to have been caused by the Noorderlicht picking its way delicately through a semi-frozen fjord filled with shattered glacier ice. Steep scree slopes tumbling into the water, a cloudless sky and several portly seals floating past on miniature icebergs completed the scene.
Yesterday, as you’ll have gathered, was the biggy. After travelling last week to Nyskjaeret, the island that Alex discovered in 2004, and collecting some of its material, yesterday we sailed to international waters and formally declared the foundation of Nowhereisland. There was some discussion of how to mark the occasion, but in the event we decided to go with minimal theatre and simple gestures. When our captain, the wonderfully taciturn Ted, announced that we had hit the appointed GPS coordinates, Alex added his signature to the declaration, read it aloud and then fired a flare. It was an exciting moment for all of us and surprisingly emotional – the whoops and cheers you can see from yesterday’s video were certainly not staged. Indeed, one of the most enjoyable aspects of the whole trip so far has been the willingness of everyone to go beyond merely “playing along” and to really engage with the project as a serious endeavour.
Fittingly, perhaps, the sunset as we sailed back towards land was just about as extraordinary as any we’ve seen so far. My little point-and-shoot camera can hardly do it justice (for that, you’ll need to wait for the official release from our photographer, Max “Rab man” McClure) but hopefully you can get a sense from the attached. If there’s a single memory I will take from this trip, it’s the remarkable Arctic sunlight, which makes UK days seem monochrome by comparison.
Wonderful vessel as it is, the Noorderlicht isn’t hugely well equipped for partying, so our declaration day celebrations were modest. We drank some wine. We played some music through tinny computer speakers. Kim had had the forethought to bring some sparklers, which proved surprisingly difficult to light in the freezing night air. Then we went to bed. Heady times indeed.
As it happened, yesterday was not just our declaration but also the day where we ticked over the mark of 2000 Nowhereisland citizens (“Nowherians”). We’ve spent much of today in discussion about constitutional matters, and in particular trying to work out how we go about involving the citizens in a conversation about Nowhereisland’s purpose and future. Like so many of the topics we have been exploring on this expedition, the questions of what a constitution is, and why Nowhereisland needs one, proved rather more complex and difficult than any of us had been expecting. For instance, a key idea in the Nowhereisland declaration is that the nation’s constitution will be “cumulative and consensual” and written by its citizens. But what might this look like in practice? Should there be some fundamental values and assumption built-in, or will every aspect be up for grabs? To what extent should we think of Nowhereisland as a space for utopian thinking, as opposed to (or perhaps as well as) a “real” initiative that has practical effects and implications for those who participate?
There are also interesting issues about the nature of citizenship itself. Calling the project’s supporters “citizens” was, in part, a rhetorical flourish – there is something alluring about becoming a “citizen” of somewhere new and exotic, especially if it can be accomplished for free without any difficult legal entailments. But exploring the idea of citizenship seems important to how the project unfolds from this point onwards. For instance, citizens of conventional nations have rights and responsibilities both under the law and in relation to each other. How can citizenship of Nowhereisland mean something substantive in terms of rights and responsibilities, when citizens are neither bound together by place nor subject to any common laws?
Anyhow, several hours of rather painstaking discussion got us so far but not far enough, and there will be more to follow tomorrow. Fortunately, some extra-curricular relief was provided by our guide, Jan, who led a splendid head-clearing hike around the fjord.
This communication would not have been possible without the support of Iridium.Com
20 September 2011
Day 10: Carl Gardner
Today we Nowherians declared our new nation. But what exactly do we mean by that?
The expedition team discussed early on our voyage whether Nowhereisland should have all the trappings of statehood in international law – membership of the UN for instance – and decided it shouldn’t. We know many people will assume we made that decision because we doubt others will recognise us; but that’s not our reason, in truth.
Contrary to what most people assume, recognition is not a prerequisite in international law for the creation of a state. True, some international lawyers (such as the famous Hersch Lauterpacht in the mid-20th century) have argued that recognition is an essential condition for statehood. This is known as the "constitutive" theory, according to which recognition constitutes statehood at least in part. But this theory has problems. How could you characterise a country that’s recognised by some nations, but not all? There are examples of such states, whose existence is contested and controversial. Is it a state, because one country recognises it? Or not, because not all do? To solve this, Lauterpacht was driven to argue that states are obliged in international law to recognise others. Yet this is an unconvincing solution given the reality: that one state’s decision to recognise another is highly political. If a duty exists, it’s hardly discernible in states’ practice.
More satisfactory is the "declaratory" theory, according to which recognition by other states is merely evidence of the existence of a state, independent of recognition. Recognition, on this theory, is merely declaratory of statehood, not constitutive of it. It’s fair to say this is the more commonly held modern view – embodied for instance in the Montevideo Convention of 1933. The requirements of statehood are simply these: a permanent population; a defined territory; and an independent government able to enter into relations with the other states. If Nowhereisland faces obstacles to statehood in international law, these relate more to the global spread of its citizenry and its unusually defined territory than to any issue of recognition.
In any event, though, Nowhereisland aims precisely to get away from the traditional structures of nation-states, which have failed to tackle the crises facing the earth and humanity. It aims to get away from existing models of international cooperation, too, which – while we respect their achievements – also struggle to address global emergencies. That’s why we won’t be joining the UN.
So Nowhereisland is a nation but not a nation-state. We’re in good company: England, Scotland and Wales are all examples of nations in precisely this sense. We offer open citizenship to anyone who supports our vision or wants to take part in an exciting exploration of what a nation can be, and how we can rethink the earth’s affairs.
Over the last few days at sea, we held passionate debates about what our declaration would say; last night we studied the UN Convention on the Law of the Sea to be clear when we’d enter truly international waters. Early this afternoon our instruments told us we’d reached that point. Tomorrow we begin the work of our constitution, as Nowhereisland’s voyage continues into truly uncharted waters.
This communication would not have been possible without the support of Iridium.Com
20 September 2011
Day 10: Charlie Logan / Lydia Kate Maloney
The wind was good, the sails were up and the engine was off when we finally reached international waters at 13:54 local time on the 20th of September 2011. Co-ordinates at N 80 17' 01.4" E 010 53' 00.8" when the signing of the Nowhereisland declaration took place. The ring of the ship's bell marked the beginning of the new nation which already has 2000 citizens. Alex read out the declaration and we all cheered as he fired the flare.
This communication would not have been possible without the support of Iridium.Com
20 September 2011
Day 10: Declaration Day
Read the full text of the declaration here
This communication would not have been possible without the support of Iridium.Com
19 September 2011
Day 9: Charlie Logan / Lydia Kate Maloney
Today for the second day we were unable to travel out to international waters because of very harsh winds so we anchored near a tourist hotspot Virgohamna. This bay is famous for the early explorers trying to reach the North Pole by various different means of transport e.g. hot-air balloon and wooden raft. The ruins have been there since the late 1800s.
While in the bay we hiked up a hill to take in the view. On the way up we spotted 18 seals which actually swam up to us. We literally risked life and limb for the view considering we almost got blown off the top of the mountain, totally worth it!
We will now continue the journey north to see how far we can go into international waters . . . Sea sickness patches at the ready!
This communication would not have been possible without the support of Iridium.Com
19 September 2011
Day 9: Kim Tilbrook
So we’re on our way.... it’s incredibly exciting, sailing out to international waters in our beautiful pirate ship to declare our new nation state. It’s been a fascinating process so far, to focus on the aims of this project and to write a declaration that encompasses our aspirations for Nowhereisland.
We’ve been using a consensus decision making process (a visual language and protocol) to manage our group discussions which have been long and very animated and occasionally broken up by polar bear sightings or excursions into the stunning environment from which the concept of this project springs.
The expertise on board is astounding and I really hope the declaration exemplifies all that knowledge and represents what we believe Nowhereisland citizens, present and future, aspire to. No small task.
The notion of a borderless nation, one that spans the world and seeks to re-imagine the role of nations is huge. Can we really do that? This is after all an art project, one based on a sculpture, an island landscape travelling through other landscapes, a nation in search of its people. It’s so poetic and that’s a word we’ve used again and again, to make sure we maintain a sense of beauty and wonder throughout. I look forward to our further conversations that start to build the constitution, one that other citizens can add to and develop through the website and the Embassy.
Aaaaah, the Embassy! We’ve spent today talking through the role of the Embassy, which is my department and work over the next year. It’s a conversation I’ve been waiting to have ever since I got the job as ‘artist educator’ back in April. How do we tell the story of the project and explore the issues it raises through a very interactive experience?
The ideas have been flowing and I can’t wait to really pull together the content. Artefacts from this trip and from the island which Alex discovered seven years ago, maps and research into climate change, migration, colonialism, global consumerism and waste – as well as the theatrical and ceremonial event like activities the Embassy - will provide as it follows the island’s journey round the ports and harbours of the South West. My role as the Nowhereisland ‘Ambassador’ gets ever more cohesive and real, the project ever more solid.
If the Olympics embody a celebration of human endeavour and global aspirations for tolerance, peace and understanding, I do believe Nowhereisland is well on the way to achieving its Cultural Olympiad brief. Truly thrilling to be a part of...
This communication would not have been possible without the support of Iridium.Com
19 September 2011
Day 9: The Fence Furthest North: Tim Cresswell
Tomorrow we are going to declare the new island nation of Nowhereisland. It will be the result of hours of intense and imaginative discussion reflecting an energizing range of expertise and experience. Creative artists, a curator, young people, a legal scholar, an advocate for new forms of education, a feminist writer, an environmental activist, a theorist of happiness, a film-maker, a linguist and an arts consultant and educator have come together using consensus decision making techniques to formulate the broad contours of a new way of imagining an interconnected world. It has been an exhausting and exhilarating week leading up to the declaration of a new nation. In this blog entry I link this to some of the things we have seen in the last week.
Today (Monday) we explored a site of human settlement at Virgohamna, on the far north-west point of Spitzbergen (Svalbard). It is here that several ill-fated expeditions set off to reach the North Pole by balloon between 1896 and 1909. Now the site consists of piles of rusting metal barrels, grey and silver fragments of wood that had once formed the frame hanger for a hydrogen balloon, shards of brown ceramic pots, piles of rusted iron filings that had been used to make the hydrogen. It was all slowly folding and melding into the landscape of rocks, gravel more or less a century after it was brought here on ships from Norway. This very special kind of garbage is evidence of the energies of humans attempting to map and connect the world. It is just the latest of a series of such sites we have encountered.
Needless to say, I have been dazzled by the natural beauty of the High Arctic. The blue ice against black rock, the glaciers performing elegant curves as they descend to the sea, the clumsy grace of a startled polar bear. My image file (in my head and on my laptop) is full to bursting. I have been struck most of all, however, with the comparatively thin landscape of human inhabitation. Our first day in Longyearbyen revealed a disused industrial infrastructure of looming chimneys and corrugated sheds alongside accumulations of multi-coloured containers. A cable-car system for transporting coal could be seen – a dark line of towers and cables disappearing into the fog. All these reminders of the ways this small, northern place is connected to everywhere else. I found it beautiful too.
On Saturday we had our first significant tramp on land. We walked along the shore before heading up hill (where we would meet a curious and startled polar bear). All along the shore were large pieces of timber, some with metal bits attached. This in a landscape where no plant is more than a couple of inches tall. These silvery pieces of wood were from large trees. They are brought up here by Arctic currents from Siberia. Some of it is from timber camps and some is from decaying dock structures falling into the sea.
On Sunday we headed south to get out of high wind and waves. We moored in the Magdalena Fjord after passing close by the blue face of a glacier surrounded by hissing and fizzing ice in the salt water. Once we had parked up we went ashore for a walk along a stony shore to another glacier. On landing we were confronted with the metal posts of a fence surrounding a stony mound. The fence is set into sand that seems more Saharan than Arctic. As this is not high season, the chains linking the posts had been removed. This, Jan (our guide and guard against polar bears) told us with some sadness in his voice, was the most northerly fence in the world. This is Gravneset – a site that has been inhabited or otherwise used by humans since 1596. The fence had been put there to protect a graveyard. A mound of stones and rocks mark the bodies of English whalers and others who lived and died here in the seventeenth century hunting whales to produce oil and corsets for use back home. The fence has been put there to stop the 20,000 tourists a year that come here from around the world from destroying the site. As unlikely as it seems on a very cold and blustery day, large cruise ships come in here and moor, allowing large numbers of tourists to unload and wander. The fence, like the remains of expeditions from a hundred years ago, is a result of the connections that link this seemingly isolated place to the rest of the world. For me, it is s profound symbol of both separation and connection.
The containers of Longyearbyen, the flotsam from Russia, the ruins of an expedition camp and the fence at the top of the world all point outwards from here to a world that exceeds the capabilities and imaginations of states and nations. For days we have been having intense discussions over the meaning and purpose of Nowhereisland as a space for thinking differently about the world. It has left me feeling energized and hopeful thanks to the range of commitments and talents on board this boat coming together in a shared enterprise. At the centre of this enterprise is the notion that there is a need to think in terms of connections rather than in terms of separate little parcels of space with their own interests. For me, Nowhereisland is a space to think about flow, networks and connectedness in a world in which it makes little sense to continue to talk in terms of human OR natural. It is a space without fences.
This communication would not have been possible without the support of Iridium.Com
19 September 2011
Day 9: The story of Virgohamma (video)
This communication would not have been possible without the support of Iridium.Com
18 September 2011
Day 8: Charlie Logan / Lydia Kate Maloney (video)
This communication would not have been possible without the support of Iridium.Com
18 September 2011
Day 8: Getting off the boat (video)
18 September 2011
Day 8: Kieron Kirkland
It would be easy to get caught up in the romanticism of being on a sailing boat in the middle of the Arctic Ocean, so I'm reassured that reality keeps making its presence known; whether that's seasickness, the challenges of running group debates, or bad weather.
This project calls to the big problems that a global society needs to address. That's everything from mass environmental exploitation through to global migration. These individual issues will be covered in other blog posts on this site I am sure. However, alongside these issues, this project makes another big, and very important point: that it's only through integrating our digital and physical worlds that we can really address our global interconnected crises.
A starting point for our discussions was Simon Anholt's idea that what Nowhereisland should be is a 'nowhere-nation', that what we really need is a neutral space in which to discuss global problems. This is a very powerful image which I wholeheartedly agree with. However, this project has the potential to show how we can take this one stage further. That's finding an interface for the digital and physical worlds, learning what is best done digitally, and what needs to be tangible. Harnessing the power of the internet for contribution, collaboration, and consensus, but integrating this with a physical reality that people can intuitively relate to, and that can interface with 'real world' institutions.
Our world is increasingly networked, and that's only going to continue. People can speak to thousands of people in an instant. But we are only beginning to explore when is this enough, and when we need to make things physical. A part of what this project and journey has really highlighted for me is that we have to learn how to understand where we need to keep physical contact and when we can exist digitally. The Nowhereisland nation is a potent idea - create a nation that overcomes state boundaries and offers a new identity and network to deal with global problems. But that's not really the thing. There's a lot of digital spaces and organisations that are attempting to do that already. Why Nowhereisland is powerful is that it reminds us of the power of a physical embodiment. That physical space is integral to change virtual discussions into a reality, to manifest energy into concrete action. Taking it to its extreme, as Simon Anholt suggests, would be to take a part of the Nowhere nation out of the digital and conceptual realms, and into reality. To actually make it an independent place where nations can meet in neutrality.
Whether this project manages to do that is not really the point. Rather that it reminds us that unless we interface our digital and physical realities we cannot begin to address our global interconnected crises. A digital revolution is pointless without a world for it to happen in.
This communication would not have been possible without the support of Iridium.Com
17 September 2011
Day 7: Charlie Logan / Lydia Kate Maloney
By completing the extraction of island material in a single day, the team now have a couple of days spare, so Arctic hiking was now on the agenda! After a day spent discussing the difficulties of the Nowhereisland declaration, the next day involved a mountain walk to a nearby glacier, where incredible and exciting moments were not in short supply. Due to unforeseen circumstances, the walrus covered island of Moffen was now off the list of places for sightseeing. We now begin our journey into international waters where we will then declare our new nation – Nowhereisland.
This communication would not have been possible without the support of Iridium.Com
17 September 2011
Day 7: Nskjaeret: Tania Kovats
Today I planted an acorn. It went into the tin can at the heart of the cairn on Nskjaeret, the island that has been revealed from the retreating glacier from which Nowhereisland will be formed.
Alex first visited this place seven years ago to the day. He undid the rocks that surrounded the tin can containing the claim note he left in 2004. The can was intact, a few streaks of rust running down the rock directly below it. You could see his heart open at this moment. The can disintegrated at his touch, bits of rusted metal flaking like the frost-shattered stones all around it.
We built up the cairn again, our way marker in the manner of all marked places. We left a new tin, all our names inside, a letter from Ruby, a stone from the South, and an acorn.
This communication would not have been possible without the support of Iridium.Com
17 September 2011
Day 7: Stephen Pax Leonard
Low, lengthy undulations of Altostratus Radius cloud stretch and converge towards the long, tired horizon. Out on deck, there is an uneasy stillness to the place: the North of legends and myth, a place too far north for indigenous peoples of the Arctic to live, a place draped in cloud and mist, lost in an uncertain future. The disappearing sea ice of the Arctic Ocean which sits like an ill-fitted bonnet on an overgrown baby doll lies less than 200 miles to the north and few ships venture into these polar waters, for the moment at least. Centuries ago, these northern seas were full of flotillas of Dutch and English ships, dredging the waters for whales and pushing a number of species to the point of extinction. Soon, the Arctic Ocean will be used for a different form of exploitation as oil & gas companies look to mine the sea bed for the world’s remaining fossil fuels before transporting them via new shipping channels to China and south-east Asia. In doing so, the miners and shipping companies will make significant savings in transportation costs, but will simultaneously take incalculable risks with what is surely one of the world’s last wildernesses. In between the whalers and the miners came the explorers looking for fame and aspiring to reconstruct childhood dreams.
In mid-September, the Spitsbergen landscape and the featureless clouds form a dreamy patina of subtle blends of grey and white. Last night, there was a crepuscular, blurred incoherence to the sky, mirroring the hue of the solitary Fulmar flying over the inky black sea with such a sense of purpose. The sun remains hidden all day behind this oppressive, mackerel-coloured facade. I and 16 others are aboard the Noorderlicht, a majestic, red-hulled, 47 meter two mast Dutch schooner who recently celebrated her centenary. Having passed through the calm waters of the Barents Sea, we cross into the less hospitable Arctic Ocean. The swell of the ocean leaves me horribly sea-sick and bound to my cabin for the best part of a day. With the violent pitch of the ship, I cling to the sides of the iron hull, my suspect sea legs having practically given away before I stagger downstairs like a drunk, skating across the ship’s polished teak floors to my bunk for a miserable afternoon of nausea and pathetic wretchedness. I wonder if am made for these unpredictable seas.
We have just returned from Nyskjaeret on the east coast of Spitsbergen, a small island that revealed itself some years ago through the process of glacial melting. The geography of the Arctic is changing before our very own eyes: new, ephemeral islands are being formed and displaced. The glacial tongues that used to lick the shore edge are retreating faster into their rocky palates than anybody ever expected. Most people only know of climate change vicariously through their reading of newspapers, books and articles. Here, in another world, environmental degradation is immediate and undeniable. Cascading lumps of ice create new suitcases of ice which begin a long, lonely journey through Arctic waters before rolling, rocking and ultimately disappearing to the bottom of the sea. On the starboard side of the ship, ancient glaciers calve, rumble and explode like a controlled demolition of an inner city housing block, redefining the borders and edges of our world.
Having just spent a year living in north-west Greenland, it is inevitable that one draws the occasional comparison. Although I find myself quite suddenly at more or less the same degree of latitude, so many things are different. In late summer, the climate here in Svalbard is changeable and unlike the settled weather of the polar desert of north-west Greenland. There are relatively few icebergs in the Norwegian Arctic. Instead, the islands comprise a series of deep ravines with small patches of lichen and moss, indented with fjords. In Greenland, cathedrals of ice tower over the wasteland of barren tundra whilst the basalt rocks of Spitsbergen resemble cakes made of charcoal topped with glacial icing. Here, the mountain tops are shaped like table-tops and the colonies of sea birds have for the most part already left. Both places have become barometers of climate change. In both places, one feels the power and poetry of the raw nature and the inspiration that the emptiness of the Arctic wilderness brings with it.
The day before last, our guide, Jan, a tall and very well informed Dutch gentleman who has made a life out of visiting the most remote islands of the world, rang the ship’s brass bell to tell us that he had spotted a young male polar bear at starboard, 300 or 400 meters away. I lived in a remote corner of Greenland for a year, but only saw one polar bear. The animal was killed outside my house one night in the month of March. Three days of sailing around the Arctic archipelago of Svalbard, and there he was, the eco-icon warrior of the North, for many the ultimate symbol of climate change in the Arctic. The bear clambered over the rocks onto the narrow, shingle beach. At one moment, the bear appeared to have smelt us, looking apparently straight into the lenses of the passengers armed with binoculars and quivering with excitement. It is an unsettling experience to witness climate change at first hand, but it is also very gratifying to see this vast animal where it belongs, in the Arctic wilderness and not behind bars at the local zoo. It is believed that there are more polar bears than people on Svalbard, but there is probably less food for them now than there has ever been before. As the recent tragedy on Svalbard shows, we, human beings, are on the menu of a starving bear. We hope to see another before we head south, but nothing remains certain in this changing part of the world.
This communication would not have been possible without the support of Iridium.Com
15 September 2011
Day 5: Charlie Logan / Lydia Kate Maloney
After 3 days of intense sailing we finally set foot upon Nskjaeret, and my gosh did solid ground feel good!! Digging up rock, transporting it 200m across ice covered ocean via Zodiac and then lifting it onto the Noorderlicht in 3 days?! So easy we completed it in 6 hours (and even had to take some back). Wasn't just rocks and dirt we were bringing back with us, when exploring the island we came across many interesting artifacts including strange looking plants, an ancient looking trilobite and a seal foot. That's going to look weird coming through customs!
This communication would not have been possible without the support of Iridium.Com
15 September 2011
Day 5: Frank Hartley: The digging day
Today was the digging day of the expedition. It went very well as we had allotted three days for what we did in just one. This is a very good thing because it means we get more time to look at things such as polar bears and glaciers. Now the big decision is to go north or south west. If we go north then we could be the most northerly sailing vessel, which would be amazing because we could even get into the Guinness Book of Records. But if we go south then there is a very good chance of seeing whales, which would also be amazing. Just before we left the island we had what we think was the most northerly game of rugby ever. Charlie, Tim and I absolutely thrashed Sam, Carl and Steph. It was great fun even though it was a bit too easy because they scored one try and we scored above 20. Another thing I did today was to map the island with Tim, the resident geographer. I know this doesn’t seem like all that much compared to being on the ship for a week, but it was really fun as it was interesting as well as good exercise because we had to walk everywhere on the island and map it out.
This communication would not have been possible without the support of Iridium.Com
14 September 2011
Day 4: Charlie Logan / Lydia Kate Maloney
Two days in after leaving port Longyearbyen, more than half our expedition team are hit by seasickness. A decision made by the guide to take the Noorderlicht along the North coast, instead of south, of Svalbard because of strong winds meant we had to brace the harsh waves of the unsheltered ocean. Our luxury sailing boat had now turned into what was effectively a fairground ride! One more day left until solid ground could be set foot upon again.
This communication would not have been possible without the support of Iridium.Com
14 September 2011
Day 4: Charlie Logan / Lydia Kate Maloney
While on steady sea's, we made the most of the expedition teams company by having discussions along the lines of the island's culture, citizenship, communications etc. lead by our ships very own magician Kieran Kirkland. During the talks we as a team of people decided to declare Nowhereisland a nation instead of a Micronation. However mid way through the meeting we were rudely interrupted by the call of wildlife . . . Not only did it give us a break from the mind bashing but we also got to see our first polar bear!! Our guide informed us that the bear was probably a male around 3 years old. To add to the excitement we also had our first Tv interview with our on-board reporter for the BBC Johnny Rutherford.
Watch out for us on BBC news (Try not to laugh too much)
Catch up with us tomorrow; Charlie and Lydia :)
This communication would not have been possible without the support of Iridium.Com
14 September 2011
Day 4: Hinlopen Straight: Tania Kovats
Woke up this morning in the Hinlopen Straight and to calm water.
Yesterday, and for most of the night, the ship was sailing into a fierce headwind and progress was very slow. At points in the night we were only doing 0.1 knots.
We crossed the 80th parallel but too many people were in their beds to make much of it. It was very tough to see so many of us sick. I was lucky enough not to be ill but caught in what David called ‘the wooze’ – it was like being sedated, lying around, holding onto the edge of a wooden shelf because it was a solid thing in this world where everything was lurching. Moving around the boat was challenging, spinning head trying to accommodate the sensations of tip and lurch. A handful of us were in pretty good shape, Johnny and David the two cameramen were amazing, nothing stopped them working. Tim was ship’s DJ, lots of Gillian Welch, and gentle sea shanties. Couldn’t look at a book or screen. Tried to watch a couple of movies between delivering crackers and water to people in their bunks. Alex was fine, and Frank threw up once and then felt fine. He has decided seasickness is no big deal and his recommended cure is a cracker, a coke and a Werther’s original – but don’t have the Werther’s if you are just going to threw it up again as that’s a waste!
By sunset things had eased off as we had some time in the shelter afforded by Muffen Island, where we could see walruses. With the euphoria of the sunset, kitiwakes wheeling around, and calm sea everyone forced themselves on deck. It was a great relief to see some faces full of colour again! The horizon was enormous and the sun dropped into the sea unmasked by cloud or land.
The sea picked up once we passed Muffen and people retreated to horizontal positions again leaving a small group of us to have dinner and mine each other’s ipods for songs to match the evening out here forging across the Arctic Ocean.
This communication would not have been possible without the support of Iridium.Com
13 September 2011
Day 3:
The brave Noordelicht is plunging through the Arctic Ocean. Could we be the furthest North boat on the planet – literally sitting on top of the world? Tomorrow we will begin our journey through Hinlopen Strait and the rocking will (we are assured) calm down. But until that happens 70% of our crew (no mum, not Thania) are in their bunks with varying degrees of sea-sickness. Unfortunately this has meant discussions are off until our sea-legs are better established (or the sea is calmer).
Check out Frank's video for a sense of the waves.
This communication would not have been possible without the support of Iridium.Com
13 September 2011
Day 3: Frank Hartley
Today we travelled in open seas for the first time on the journey and it was so rough 80% of the team were all completely ill all day. One of the people who came off the worst was Steph who was sick every time he tried to get out of bed. Yesterday was also the coldest of all the days it was around 2°C and because of the wind it was absolutely freezing. There was a moment of calm as we went past Mofen an island where all the walruses live. This was the only time in the day when everybody came out on deck. I found that eating crackers, drinking Coke and sucking on a Werther's Original took away the pesky seasickness. Sonya the cook says that when it gets really rough she finds it very hard to cook because you can't chop anything and when you boil water it can slosh everywhere. I was sick once today but found that I felt a lot better afterwards
This communication would not have been possible without the support of Iridium.Com
12 September 2011
Day 2: Alex Hartley / Claire Doherty
Yesterday we were flying over the Barents Sea in the High Arctic at around 30,000 ft, the captain announced that due to dense cloud and low visibility we might have to turn back to the Norwegian mainland. Svalbard, and the start of our expedition was almost in our grasp, but it felt, after 24 hours of travelling, unreachable. Noooooooooo! Then a break in the cloud and we touched down on a desolate, black landscape which hugged the fjord. Our journey to get to our vessel – the Noorderlicht - has been nothing compared with Tamsin Omond’s epic two-week journey by sea. At some point in the previous hours we had flown over her in the air. This morning we woke to misty rain and a dip in temperature and the jeopardy of whether Tamsin would get into Longyearbyen before the departure time we had agreed as the cut off before we our embarkation. Then a phone call and the exchange of Tamsin from boat to boat is negotiated and arranged at Barentsburg – the semi-abandoned Russian mining town 3 hours sailing away. So we’re off – on our way at last, passing puffins as we go in calm waters en route to pick up our last team member before rounding the southern tip of the archipelago and heading north in search of Nowhereisland.
This communication would not have been possible without the support of Iridium.Com
12 September 2011
Day 2: Charlie Logan / Lydia Kate Maloney
Noorderlicht boarded, bags unpacked, and after a few long days of hotels, bus journeys and flights everyone will be where they should be when our final expedition member arrives from her cargo ship. The night in Oslo was an unexpected experience. It started with an interesting taxi ride with on-board karaoke system, nothing like starting a night with a good old sing song!! When we arrived at Anne Beate's house in the hills of Oslo we kicked off the meal with a real delicacy. . . Rotten fish, yuuummmy. However it was nicely followed by what we can only describe as Norwegian style cottage pie with Elk (Moose), it went down very well with the rest of the team. After one night spent on board the ship, we set sail after breakfast to embark on the Nowhereisland journey around the stunning coast of Svalbard. 0℃ cold? Na, this is summer!
This communication would not have been possible without the support of Iridium.Com
12 September 2011
Day 2: Frank Hartley
As we arrived in Longyearbyen we were greeted by a huge stuffed polar bear at the airport. We went to the town in Longyearbyen and there were very few shops, and the shop that was open was full of horrible glass polar bears. However, the best thing that happened yesterday was that we went on to the Noorderlicht the boat that we will be traveling on for the next two weeks. It is warm but the cabins are absolutely tiny. Charlie and I are in the second smallest cabin, which given that all of the cabins are small is beyond tiny. As I’m writing this Charlie and Lydia are watching Friends and as this is one of my favourite programs it is very annoying that I can't watch it.
This communication would not have been possible without the support of Iridium.Com
11 September 2011
Day 1: Frank Hartley
Today is the first day of the nowhereisland expedition and we got up early in the morning to fly to Tromso, which is in north Norway, so everyone was quite tired. Last night we went to a very nice dinner at Anne Beate’s house and we ate an elk. I have never had elk before. Another thing I've never had before is rotten fish and it smelt absolutely disgusting, but it tasted actually quite delicious. The nowhereisland team are getting along well together. Most of the men have been playing a game, which involves forming your hands into circles, getting other people to look at them, and, when they do look, they get to hit you. As I'm writing this blog there is a big controversy because we might have to go back to Tromso due to low visibility. This would be very bad because it could muck up the whole trip and mean that we are delayed.
This communication would not have been possible without the support of Iridium.Com
11 September 2011
Day 1: Longyearbyen 78’ North Sunday evening: Tania Kovats
Three flights and two days later we have made it to Lonyearbyen. Weary from transits, and bag lugging but sustained by the unifying excitement at what we are about to do. We crossed over into the Arctic Circle this morning and made the last flight to Svalbard this afternoon. It appeared out of the low cloud beneath us like a hallucination. Flying in above blue glaciers engraved with black lines like the woodgrain of millennium and black mountains pouring out spectral clouds. You land on a very thin strip of flat land between the mountain and the water. Not a good day to fly. Sure airports all over the world are crackling with the anxiety of today’s anniversary.
There’s a stuffed polar bear at the airport, inside the luggage carousel, another one over the entrance to the supermarket in town. And saw a third in the museum.
Longyearbyen is an outpost town. Bleak, surrounded by workings for the mines. The coal here seems to have turned the earth black. It was raining when we got here so everything darkened with the rain. About 5’ centigrade so surprisingly not that cold but the wind on your face has come from somewhere colder. Feels like late November in Devon. Curious mix of folk getting on the planes, hunters with their dogs and guns, as well as miners, and tourists easily identified by brand new technical clothing, locals with the most amazing frozen blue eyes, and some bewildered Thai workers here for the tourist season. Usually Norway doesn’t let anyone in, but here in the Kingdom of Svalbard if you can show you have a job to go to you are welcome to come and live in this strange outpost.
Our nowhereisland pioneers are quite remarkable. There is amazing group of people on board for this journey, intimidating when they start to introduce themselves and what they do or have done, but then just fine to talk with, laugh with or even better to allow the leveling effect of the minibus taxi’s karaoke machine to work its magic as the ultimate icebreaker. We had a brilliant evening in Oslo with Anne Beate and Jarl at their home in Oslo. They gave us a banquet of Norwegian specialties, uniquely rotted fish, and raw salmon, elk heaped with berries and sour cream, and cloudberries for desert. We ate our arrival to the north and our introductions poured out easily. Nowhereisland is in safe hands. I’m so proud of Alex for what he has achieved to get us all here.
We are on board the boat tonight (Sunday) and squashed into our cabins, thermals unpacked, boat rules issued, and a lot of talk about polar bears and what not to do. Our crew are keen to keep us all alive, which I like, and avoid having to shoot a bear because of something we don’t get right. At the edge of town there is road sign indicating do not go any further because of the bears – a great addition to the Highway Code from the north.
Frank is great, really getting on with people and just so excited to be here. He has been complaining the most it’s not cold enough but still some way more to go to the north, and open seas to take the thermometer down some more.
Sun still holding some light at 11pm. Can’t quite tell where it is. It did clear for a while this evening and the fjord was a mirror to the magnificence of everything around. As good as Scotland but bigger. Then an hour later the fog just took it all away again. I am disorientated tonight, too far north to tell which way is east or west and the sun’s strange horizontal circle around the sky means I can’t recognize the arc I know it makes normally. Good job I’m not navigating…
We set sail tomorrow morning, waiting for Tasmin to join us. She has had an epic sea journey up here to meet us at the quayside tomorrow morning at 8am. We leave as soon as she is on board.
This communication would not have been possible without the support of Iridium.Com
6 September 2011
Tamsin Omond reaches the Arctic CIrcle
Tamsin Omond has reached the Arctic Circle on route to meet the Nowhereisland expedition by sea.
Read more about Tamsin's journey in her blog at http://tamsinomond.wordpress.com/
We are grateful to Chamber & Cook and Sea Cargo for making Tamsin Omond’s sea journey from Immingham, UK to Longyearbyen, Svalbard possible.
