Vegan at Sea-gan: The Arctic Ocean

Holly Jenkins looks out at a polar bear on the ice from on board the RRS James Clark Ross. Photo: Florence Atherden

In recent years, women researchers, scientists, and local champions have elevated their visibility and empowered their voices across the world. The Arctic is no exception. With powerful organizations like 500 Women Scientists and local movements like Women in Polar Science and Plan A growing their reach and impact, women are sharing their personal narratives, highlighting their contributions, and supporting each other like never before. The Arctic Institute’s Breaking the Arctic’s Ice Ceiling is our team’s contribution to this movement. In a series of commentaries, articles, and multimedia posts, we are highlighting the work of women working and living in the Arctic.

The Arctic Institute Breaking the Arctic's Ice Ceiling Series 2019

• Looking Up: Women in Arctic Science
• The Gender Gap in Arctic Research Awards and Leadership – Infographic
• An Arctic Imposter’s Journey to Belong
• Women Are America’s Climate Change Champions
• Vegan at Sea-gan: The Arctic Ocean
• Golden Rule in Arctic Science and Community Partnerships
• Is the Future of the European Arctic Socially Sustainable?
• Geo-mapping in the Canadian Arctic
• Women in Polar Research: A Brief History
• It’s Our Table: Indigenous People Shaping Arctic Policy

The climate in our polar regions is changing faster than anywhere else on the planet—a process called polar amplification. The next 15 years are critical and will tell us the future frequency of ice free summers in the Arctic. We already know that an ice-free Arctic Ocean is likely to occur within 10 years if there is 2°C of atmospheric warming above pre-industrial levels. We have already reached 1°C, and  are currently on a trajectory towards 3­°C and a permanently ice-free state. The Arctic plays a key role in the global system; absorbing heat and carbon from the atmosphere, driving ocean circulation, and supporting large fish, seabird, and whale populations. To me, it is vital that we learn all we can about these unique places, so we have an idea of how they will cope with these future scenarios.

For my part, I research the effects of climate change on Arctic plankton. Most people underestimate the importance of plankton—but plankton (particularly copepods) are the essential base of all marine food webs. They provide an energy- and nutrient-rich source of food for fish, birds, and whales, and are particularly important to vulnerable Arctic fisheries. With warming being so pronounced at the poles, the Arctic is an obvious place to focus my research.

In my personal life, I try to live as sustainably as possible to reduce my contribution to climate change. For example, I use renewable energy, live without a car, get produce without packaging from a local greengrocer, and eat a plant-based diet. I understand that this vegan diet is not possible for everyone, but in the south of the United Kingdom it is not a problem, and it is an obvious way to reduce my carbon footprint. I thought that maintaining that diet during my research, however, would be a completely different kettle of copepods.

My research began as research always does, with countless hours of reading and planning. Eventually the time came when I needed to collect data for my thesis. As part of the Natural Environment Research Council’s ‘Changing Arctic Ocean’ research programme, I would be accompanying 25 other scientists on a research expedition to the Arctic in May and June 2018. As a fresh and naïve PhD student, I had no idea what to expect. Before my degree, I had little contact with scientists, and even afterwards I had only a vague idea of what research expeditions entail. The stern, sepia glares of the original oceanographers challenged my place in their world from lofty frames, enshrined on the university walls. I feared they would have mocked my fussy dietary requirements, moustaches twitching scornfully.

I have always hungrily soaked up news stories of explorers in the Arctic, particularly those of impressive women thriving in this role that is stereotypically male. In preparing to depart for my research, I was reminded of the struggles and resilience of Ann Bancroft, even though I knew that we would only be going to 80oN—and in the summer (unlike Bancroft’s trek across the Arctic Ocean in 2007, where the expedition was called off after the cold caused frostbite and drained the batteries of their equipment). Would a research expedition also mean facing hardships, and possibly strict, non-vegan, rations? The plan was to cross the Fram Strait, between Greenland and Svalbard; a channel that is hardly remote when compared to the journeys of the previous explorers who were aiming for the poles. We would not even be leaving the ship until reaching Svalbard. Despite it promising to be much less arduous than my imagination first suggested, I was sure that my dietary preferences would be straight out the window.

The reality of the trip was completely different. The RRS James Clark Ross was comfortable, and other than the constant movement of the floor, I could have been at home. I thought I would have been pushing my luck by writing ‘vegan if possible’ on my paperwork, but the chefs catered accordingly to my needs at every single meal. I could not have been happier. Aboard were both crew and scientists who had a variety of allergies, again all catered for. Personal preferences were taken into account, with different options and substitutions. What a contrast to my original musings!

I suppose if any community were going to accept my eco-friendly aim, it makes sense that it would be the climate-aware scientific one. Again, it is logical that a community who knows the value of diversity would want to be as inclusive and accessible as possible. Nevertheless, the experience brought home to me the amount that has changed in the fields of oceanography and marine biology—or even throughout the entirety of the science world. Sacrifice is no longer a prerequisite for research, and science is beginning to embrace all. This extends so much further than just dietary requirements, with equality prevailing in terms of gender too: over half the scientists on my expedition were female. Our birthplaces spanned the globe, our upbringings crossed cultures and classes, and our associated institutions covered a list too long to include. In this time of gloomy future scenarios, as least we know we are going in the right direction here: acceptance and diversity.

Holly Jenkins is a PhD student based at the National Oceanography Centre Southampton, with the University of Southampton. She receives funding from NERC through the SPITFIRE DTP and Changing Arctic Oceans, but the views expressed here are her own only.