Taking the temperature of permafrost and archaeology

Today the Saturday Schoolyard talk was about warming permafrost.  The speaker was Dr. Vladimir Romanovsky, head of the Permafrost Laboratory at the Geophysical Institute at UAF.  He gave a really good talk, explaining what permafrost is (permanently frozen ground, basically), why it matters if it melts, and how permafrost researchers go about taking its temperature (with thermistor (temperature sensor) strings down boreholes, mostly).  He then went on to show how permafrost temperatures had changed through time as the atmospheric temperature had changed.

After that, he moved to predictive modeling based on climatic models.  Using even a fairly middle-of-the-road climate model, it doesn’t look too good for permafrost in Alaska by the end of the century.  He also showed active layer (the soil layer at the top that freezes and thaws every year) modeling done on a similar basis some years ago, and pointed out that over the 10 years since the model was run it had been spot on in its predictions.  The active layer is clearly going to be a lot deeper if the predictions hold.

This is not good news for Arctic archaeology.  Compared to most of the rest of the world, where archaeologists are left to puzzle out what people were doing from a few stone tools, waste flakes and potsherds, we get really good organic preservation here, which makes it possible to look at questions that can’t be addressed elsewhere for lack of relevant data.  The reason the preservation is so good is in large part permafrost, and permanently frozen sites.  Last week, when Claire was here, we were getting a lot of well-preserved 1600-1700 year old marine invertebrates from the samples.  They exist because the layer was frozen for most, if not all, of that time.

I’m been thinking a lot about site destruction, and how to determine which areas are at highest risk, in order to prioritize field efforts.  Perhaps because coastal erosion is the big and immediate threat at Nuvuk (and all the other coastal sites I’ve worked at except for Ipuitak, where the immediate threat was the seawall being built to prevent coastal erosion), I’ve tended to focus on that, as well as eroding river banks for sites along rivers.  The melting of exposed ice wedges, which then leads to collapse of the overlying ground is also something I’ve been concerned about.  And these are major threats, which can tumble entire houses upside down on the beach for the waves to destroy.

Undercutting by waves caused the gravel to slump from underneath this grave at Nuvuk.
Storm-driven surf tears into the mound at Ukkuqsi in Barrow.
Tunnel remnants after the storm. The house was to the left, where only thin air can be seen.
Ice wedge in bluffs near Barrow. They can be much larger.
Slump block on beach at Barrow after a storm.
Slumps from thawing ground along a Colville River cut bank.
A Colville River cut bank from the air. Notice the earlier slump that has stabilized and even grown over, and the fresh cut at the bottom from the river's current.

I hadn’t thought much at all about the risks to Arctic archaeology from a significant deepening of the active layer, which will mean that artifacts and ecofacts (animal bones, insects, etc.) will freeze and thaw every year (which is hard on things to begin with, often causing rocks and bones to split) and while they are thawed, they will be decaying.  Even now, really old sites don’t have much organic preservation.  Even sites that are in no danger of eroding are threatened with the gradual invisible loss of a great deal of the information they now contain.

Obviously, if we are going to develop a “threat matrix” for Arctic archaeological sites, this has to be part of it.  I talked to Vlad a bit after the talk, and he thought he had students who could be put to work on this problem, perhaps by combining what we know about site locations in Alaska (by no means a complete listing) and the existing models for permafrost change.  He also said that one could do active layer modeling for a specific site with a year’s worth of soil and air temperatures, so that’s something we definitely need to get started on.

A mystery tooth

One of the fun parts of the job is that people find all sorts of things around Barrow.  Often, they show them to me, or at least send me pictures.  In a lot of cases I can ID them, but I’m not expert on extinct fauna, and the printed/online resources available are not as good as those for modern critters.

I usually send pictures to some folks at UAF (University of Alaska Fairbanks), since they actually have a pretty good collection.  Unfortunately their current curator of mammals flatly denies any knowledge (!) of extinct animals, and doesn’t seem inclined to rural residents of the state that pays his salary by taking a peek in the collections to try to make an ID.  So I’m broadening the search.

This particular tooth was given to the current owner.  Matu believes it was found in a gravel operation near Barrow, AK.  He’s really anxious to know what it is.  If you have any ideas what it might be from, please let me know.  If you have any colleagues who might be able to ID it, we’d appreciate it if you’d give them the URL for this post and ask them to take a look if they have time.

The following pictures aren’t great.  I didn’t have a tripod or photo stand, or decent lighting.  If you think you know what it might be, but need better pictures (not hard to imagine) or a particular angle, let me know and I’ll see if I can have him bring it to the lab for a better-lit portrait.

Mystery tooth from near Barrow, AK.
Root of mystery tooth.
Close-up of mystery tooth. Any comments on traces at photo center?

Just another day at the office…

…except that I got back to Barrow to discover that all keys for a crucial filing cabinet have disappeared.  I managed to find a place that sells replacements, call them and get them to agree to Express Mail them rather than FedEx them (it’s faster and cheaper to Barrow).

I also had to touch base with folks about yet another ice road route for the work on the Barrow Gas Fields upgrades, so it looks like I will be going flying again.

Then I had to do a quick fact check on an abstract for a poster on the Nuvuk burials for the physical anthropology meetings that I am a co-author on.  Nice to see that others are as last-minute with their abstract submissions as I can be!

Besides that, there was the usual Monday time-sheet approving, with a call to the Payroll folks because they still haven’t gotten around to giving us proxy access to input time-sheets for people who are away and can’t do it themselves.  Well, my temp admin assistant has it because she was temping in Payroll, but she’s the one who’s out and can’t do it herself….

And all three of the sewage hauling trucks in Barrow are broken.  This matters to me because I live at NARL and we do not have piped water and sewage.  The water comes to the house in a truck, which pumps it into a tank.  Then we use water, and the sewage goes into a holding tank.  Another truck comes and takes it away to the sewage treatment plant.  That truck is broken.  We’re lucky in that our kitchen gray water doesn’t go into the holding tank.  We don’t actually know where it goes (under the house?  into the NARL gravel pad?  into the NARL sewage lagoon?) so we can still wash dishes & hands with no problems.  No showers, though, so we can try to postpone the honey bucket use until a truck  gets fixed.  Crossing my fingers.

Back Home Again–Finally

The conference wound up on Saturday with a really interesting circumpolar archaeozoology session, organized by Max Friesen of the University of Toronto.  I’ll do another post about the papers; this one is about coming home.  A bunch of us went out to dinner at a restaurant on a little square up Rue Lacépéde from Rue Monge.

The next day I started home.  My flight was late in the day, so I had a while to hang around Charles De Gaulle (the airport), which resulted in spending money at the duty-free shops on chocolates (for Glenn) and perfume (for me).  The Air France flight had really good food, and was even a bit early into JFK.  Passport control and US customs were the usual slow lines winding around like snakes, but eventually I made my way (by train) to the place where the hotel shuttles stop and got to the room.  A few glitches with the card keys (apparently their machine is on its last legs and only one of 3 worked) and I was able to sleep.

I had to get up quite early Monday, which wasn’t such a chore since I was still on Paris time, since my flight was at 7AM.  While checking in, I discovered that what had appeared as a JFK-ANC flight actually stopped in Salt Lake City.  And that’s where the trouble started.

We arrived in a perfectly good plane, a bit early, and were told that we were going to change planes.  They re-boarded us an hour or so later on the new plane, closed the doors, and discovered that an engine light was on.  They replaced a part, took the jet-way away, tested the engine, put the jet-way back, did something else, took the jet-way away, tested the engine, put the jet-way back, went looking for some other parts, found them, started replacing them, decided that they should deplane us because one of the parts was hard to get at and it would take a while  (they didn’t know that until they started doing the work?  what kind of mechanics are these?),  but we could leave larger luggage on board to speed re-boarding.  They handed us $6 meal vouchers and told us not to leave the boarding area (where there was only one place to get food for 100+ people).  Several hours later, it was clear that I would not be making my connection in ANC to go to Barrow.

When I went up to get re-booked, they were not able to find me a seat from ANC to Barrow until Wednesday.  I had them book it anyway, so I didn’t wind up having to wait even longer.  Eventually, they had us go on the plane five at a time to get the stuff we’d left there, and then sent us to another gate with another plane.  We finally made it to ANC about 4.5 hours late.  A few of us were stuck overnight, but at least the large contingent of senior citizens from the Midwest heading for a cruise ship didn’t miss their sailing.

It took them quite a while working on my ticket, and in the end they took my email and emailed me the itinerary later.  I did wind up standing around so long that when it was time for hotel vouchers, I’d checked the room availability, and was able to get them to put me in the Millennium, which has a decent restaurant and a gift shop that sells T-shirts (which I needed since I didn’t want to do laundry), instead of the Puffin Inn.  I think the problem was that they managed to book me on a Tuesday flight to Fairbanks, with a layover until the Barrow flight arrived, but hadn’t canceled the Wednesday reservation, so the prices weren’t coming out right, and the poor fellow didn’t have a calculator and was having to do all the math by hand.  They handed me more meal vouchers (which didn’t go that far in ANC in the summer) and off I went to catch the shuttle.

The flights on Tuesday went smoothly, Glenn was there to meet the plane, and my bag was one of the first out, so it was only about a 45 minute wait.  We then went over to the library where there was a BASC-sponsored talk going on, to hear the rest of the program, and pick up our daughter and an archaeologist friend, Rick Reanier, who is in Barrow getting ready to do some survey for Shell Oil down the coast.

Naturally, the first couple of days back have been a zoo.  One client has a procedure where they need to get letters estimating how much you are likely to charge them until the end of the fiscal year (September 30) so they can move money around.  The person who does that is going on vacation, so they needed this done ASAP.  So I made those letters, only to have them discover they didn’t have enough money in the projects to do that, and they didn’t have time before the woman left to move the money.  So I had to rewrite the letters to fit their budget!  I really don’t know why they don’t just do it themselves…  That took most of the last 2 days.

In between rewrites, I had a group of Secretary Salazar’s staffers (he’s in Barrow holding a public hearing) tour my lab while touring the building.  Fortunately, they were busy so the tour was brief.  Then I had a regular teleconference with clients, which I got called out of to go and photograph a very large tooth for a local man, Matu.   We think it may be a saber-tooth cat.  Photos have been forwarded to various paleontologists & mammologists, and we await the verdict.

Very neat website about Science and Barrow

Barrow is a pretty interesting place in terms of the sheer amount and variety of science that gets done here, as it has been since the 1st International Polar Year (IPY).  It can be hard keeping track of it even if you live here and are a scientist.  We don’t have a local newspaper reporter, and the radio station can no longer afford a full-time reporter, so there is no local source of science stories for the general public.

Many scientists want to let people know what they are doing, and what they are learning by it, but there are a number of barriers (another post for another day).  One way is blogging.  On bigger hard-science projects, websites and more are possible, since the cost of people to take care of them is really a tiny  portion of the project budget.

A recent project called OASIS really takes this to another level.  Dr. Paul Shepson, the PI, actually built in an author to write about the project, and things grew from there.  Peter Lourie, the author, has written two children’s’ books and has moved on to multimedia.  They’ve made a really neat website, which has video from a number of scientists who work in Barrow.  There’s a lot from various folks on the OASIS project, but also from people who live in Barrow, like Fran Tate of Pepe’s, whaling captain Eugene Brower and even me.  I actually got interviewed twice, because the sound on the first set got messed up, so I had to do it all over again when Peter came up again!

Definitely worth checking out.

Here’s hoping the plane makes it in tonight…

…because Shawn Miller, the physical anthropologist who will be documenting the human remains excavated at Nuvuk this summer, is supposed to be on it. The weather has been rather unfortunate of late, and a number of flights have tried to land, only to be turned back by visibility below minimums, thanks to the fact that the folks who sited the Will Rogers-Wiley Post Memorial Airport seem to have picked the foggiest spot they could find. A lot of folks have gone back and forth between Anchorage or Fairbanks and Barrow a couple of times by now (and you don’t get frequent flier miles for that).

We’ve got the lab all ready, and Laura is getting Shawn’s equipment (various digital measuring devices) out in case he wants to get an early start.  Once he’s done, we can arrange the reburial.

RIP Uncle Ted

“Where there was nothing but tundra and forest, today there are now airports, roads, ports, water and sewer systems, hospitals, clinics, communications networks, research labs and much, much more.”  (from Senator Theodore F. “Ted” Stevens’ final speech in the United States Senate).

I read those words yesterday.  When I did, I was sitting in my office in one of those research labs, the Barrow Arctic Research Center (BARC).  Down the hall is the beautiful lab occupied by the Nuvuk Archaeology Project.  Like so many other things in Alaska, especially rural Alaska, it wouldn’t be there if it weren’t for Uncle Ted.

When the building was done, there was a Grand Opening, to which the entire Alaska Congressional Delegation was invited.  We were asked to move from our old lab in another building to the BARC, so that some research would be happening there when the opening happened.  There was a nice ribbon cutting ceremony, and then the dignitaries toured the building.They visited the lab, and Uncle Ted really looked at the materials we had laid out, asked questions, and was great about taking time to talk with high school students.

Senator Ted Stevens talking to Selma Khan and me in the Nuvuk Lab at the Grand Opening of the Barrow Arctic Research Center.

He was particularly fascinated by some Yankee whaling gear that we had recovered from the work area that had been used by an umialik (whaling captain) and his crew.  When he (and Representative Don Young–the only one Alaska has) posed for pictures with the students, he wanted to hold one of those artifacts, a Yankee whaling iron.

David Patton, Representative Don Young, Senator Ted Stevens holding a Yankee whale iron, Selma Khan and Ben Frantz III in the Nuvuk Lab at the Grand Opening of the Barrow Arctic Research Center.

Ted Stevens was a gentleman and a truly great man.  He spent his adult life in public service, for Alaska and his country.  He was a genuine war hero,  with a Distinguished Flying Cross to his credit, flying transports in the China-Burma-India theater during WWII.  He graduated Harvard Law, worked as a federal prosecutor in Fairbanks, served at Department of the Interior in the run-up to statehood, practiced law and was first appointed to fill the seat of the late Senator Bob Bartlett in 1968.  He won election to that seat, and served Alaska in the US Senate for 40 years.

There,  he had a huge influence on the state of Alaska, and the US as well.  Ted Stevens was a major factor in shaping the Alaska Native Claims Settlement Act (ANCSA) which more-or-less settled the thorny issue of Native land claims, established the regional and village Native Corporations, and made construction of the Trans-Alaska Pipeline possible.  He got the TAP through the Senate, and that made Prudhoe Bay development possible.  Prudhoe Bay supports about 90%± of the State of Alaska budget, so this would be a very different place had that not happened.  He was influential in drafting the Alaska National Interest Lands Conservation Act (ANILCA), which set aside a considerable amount of federal land in Alaska (not so popular in Alaska; it cost Mike Gravel his Senate seat) and protected Native subsistence rights.  He co-authored a fisheries act that made the Alaska fisheries the best-managed in the US, and among the three best in the world, improved fishing safety (the Deadliest Catch isn’t anymore), and figured out a way to get some of the money being made on those fisheries to the impoverished original residents of the region.  The Denali Commission, which he established based on the example of the Appalachian Commission, has brought money to the state to help poor rural communities raise their standard of living to something a bit closer to what most Americans simply take for granted as their birthright.  He worked incredibly hard to improve aviation safety, not only in Alaska, but throughout the US.  He kept the USPS from degrading service to rural Alaska, and pushed the bypass mail system, which kept mailing costs (and the cost of living in rural Alaska) down a bit, and insured some revenue to passenger carriers, keeping routes to small rural communities which can only be reached by air commercially viable.

People in Alaska know that he fought for them tirelessly, and almost to a person can cite something he did that made their lives better.  He wasn’t about power for power’s sake, or for personal aggrandizement.  He knew that power & seniority were tools so he could do a better job for Alaskans.

I’ve noticed that some non-Alaskans don’t get it.  They just see Ted Stevens as a pork-barrel politician.  They are wrong.  He did indeed bring money to Alaska.  That was his job.  It was also the right thing to do.

For a good century, fortunes in gold, whale oil and baleen, furs and fish have been hauled out of Alaska to places like Seattle and San Francisco, leaving precious little benefit to the people of Alaska.  With the exception of Hawaii, the other states of the union have benefited from a century or more of federal largess, either in the form of direct federal investment like highways, locks and dams, or by way of indirect subsidies like tax breaks or free land for railroads, homesteaders and so forth.  When Stevens took office, the state of sanitation and public health in many rural villages might have been the envy of peasants in rural India, but not of most other people.  Conditions were worse than most Americans can even imagine.  People were poor, had little opportunity for Western education, in many cases were far more fluent in their Native language than in English, and had been pushed into moving into houses that were impossible to heat without expensive fuels that required cash to buy in communities where there was no wage labor.  A lot of people would have just ignored these folks, because there aren’t very many of them, and they were not politically sophisticated.  Ted Stevens didn’t.  He did the principled thing.

When Ted Stevens tied on the Incredible Hulk tie and headed for the Senate floor, he was fighting for what was right, as he understood it.  He didn’t just think of Alaska, either.  He fought very hard for funding for the National Endowment for the Arts (NEA) and National Public Radio (NPR), even when that was not a position popular with the Republican party.  He was also instrumental in restructuring the US Olympic movement to bring central control to the USOC.  He was a proponent of Title IX, which has been of so much benefit to so many female athletes throughout the US.   He was willing to work with those on both sides of the aisle, in order to get things done to benefit his state and his country, and he was very effective at it.

Along the way, he survived a plane crash that killed his first wife, and all but one other person on the Learjet.  Unfortunately, he didn’t survive this one.  Alaska and indeed the world, is a poorer place for it.  May he, and the others who perished with him, rest in peace.

Meanwhile…

While the dental extern was busy in the lab, Laura was there to help her find things, answer questions, and so forth. I was busy with other things.

A couple of Navy archaeologists (yes, the US Navy has archaeologists) were in Barrow last week to look at a tract that the Navy may be transferring to UIC, the Barrow village corporation, to get an idea of what needs to be done to comply with cultural resource protection laws prior to transferring Federal land. Neither of them has any Arctic experience, and they stopped by my office to pick my brain a bit. The next day they were doing a few STPs on an old beach ridge on the tract, and asked if I’d like to join them. It was a warm sunny day, with not much wind, and therefore many mosquitos. I hiked our from my office building to meet them, we checked out the area a bit & I hiked back. Other than all the bugs, it was great.

Navy archaeologists David Grant and Bruce Larson surveying.

We didn’t find anything cultural that was older than NARL, but we did find a couple very old gravel beaches. We did find some stakes that had probably marked research plots, and a big aluminum object that looked like an aircraft part. It had some cable attached to the front, as if someone had been trying to tow it. Apparently they gave up.  If you happen to recognize this, please let me know and I’ll pass the information on.

Large aluminum mystery object on Navy tract.

The next day I got a call from the City of Barrow. They run the cemeteries, and had been getting reports that a coffin was partially open. They had checked, and indeed a coffin had been frost-heaved and was damaged. They asked if I could come over when they moved the person into a new coffin. We decided to do it the next afternoon, after they got the new coffin built.

Fortunately, the old coffin wasn’t damaged except for a bit of the lid, so we were able to get the dirt off to make it lighter without disturbing the remains. The City crew was able to lift the entire box out and place it in the new larger coffin. It was a tight fit, because the old coffin had been covered with canvas that was nailed on, but that wasn’t clear when they had measured for the new box! Luckily they had left a bit of space, so they were able to pry a bit and get it in. I got the canvas that had frozen in out so it could go along.  I’d mostly been there in case the coffin was fragile and we had to transfer the individual, to make sure that nothing got left, but that wasn’t needed.

Once the coffin was out of the grave, the idea was to dig it a bit deeper, and then rebury the person. The soil profile was pretty interesting. There was clay (which generally is deposited on the bottom of bodies of still water) very close to the surface, despite the fact that the grave was on a mound. Apparently the permafrost has pushed it up a good bit, although it may have been deposited when sea level was higher than today.

Permanently frozen clay exposed in grave in Barrow cemetery.

The crew did what they could with shovels, but thaw was not that deep, as you can see from the picture above, so they were going to get a compressor and jack hammer, to really get the grave deeper, when I left.  If not, frost heaving would just bring the box up again in a few years.

Another windy day: or, letting the wind do the work

We had another windy day today.  In fact, it was probably even windier than the day the artifact blew away.  We didn’t try to excavate or even dig STPs, since odds were that notes, baggies, artifacts and all would have been heading for Canada.  We did get two burials ready for excavation when the wind dies down, which should be tomorrow if the National Weather Service knows what they are talking about.  One can only hope.

It was so windy that some of the excavators were wearing goggles to remove vegetation, since it was flying into eyes once loosened.  The gravel they were removing was flying a good 10-15 meters downwind.  Since we were shooting and backfilling all the STPs that were open, that took care of a bunch of them without shoveling!  I took some video with my iPhone, but I think I need to get an upgrade and figure out how to use it before I can post it.

We came in after lunch, since we had nothing left we could do in the field.