This is a continuation of a series of posts, the last of which was, http://sunriseswansong.wordpress.com/2013/11/24/arctic-sea-ice-recovery-thanksgiving-and-storms/
These posts began last June, describing the view seen by the “North Pole Camera,” appreciating the beauty of the scene and comparing it with what I had seen through the camera during earlier summers. While I am no authority on sea ice, I had been enjoying the view for many years, and knew more than many people about how the ice thaws and refreezes, and how the ice in the Arctic Sea moves about. Most especially I was able to recognize when the newspapers were writing balderdash concerning the “North Pole Melting Away.”
I had become aware over a decade earlier that much of the fret about Global Warming had very weak scientific foundations, largely due to my life-long interest in the Viking colonies of Greenland, and the absurdly unscientific Alarmist act of attempting to rewrite the history of Viking times in a manner that would “erase the Medieval Warm Period.” This attempt was so unlike science, and so much like a political strategy, that I was alerted before many friends that something odd was going on.
Over the next decade I became very involved as a “Skeptic” in rebutting the “Alarmist” arguments, but by last summer was growing sick of it all. Originally the arguments involved lots of interesting science, and I was learning through debate, however things had degenerated into mere name-calling, and there was no longer much learning involved. I just wanted to get away from it all, and to continue my learning someplace quiet. One place I knew about was the North Pole Camera’s View.
Of course, the ice at the North Pole is a hot Alarmist topic, due to their idea that the loss of ice will reduce “albedo” and the planet will overheat without the ice reflecting sunlight away. This idea is debatable, because by the time the ice reaches its minimum the sun is down near the horizon at the Pole, and open water may actually lose more heat than it absorbs. However I’d already been through all the arguments and didn’t want to debate. If you look back to June in these posts I think you’ll notice my writing gets a bit sugary, as I was walking on eggs while bending over backwards to avoid the name-calling debates. I figured I might even be able to set a good example of civil procedure.
As usual, the temperatures started to nudge above freezing due to the 24-hour-a-day sunshine, and as usual melt-water pools started to form. A lovely one formed right in front of Camera Number Two, and I was commenting on it, stating how such pools usually drained away down through the ice, and we should watch for that, when suddenly the media got involved, stating the melt-water pool was a sign the Pole was overheating and naming the pool “Lake North Pole” and so forth and so on. My obscure site, which had been getting something like ten views a day, was suddenly getting hundreds.
When the pool drained away like I said it would, and the North Pole did not become ice free, (and in fact was colder than normal with its ice-cover larger than the summer before,) it made the media look stupid and made me look like I knew what I was talking about. I liked the sensation, but have to be frank and state I wasn’t and am not an authority. I am merely a witness and an observer. I state what I see, and, because that is the truth, I may at times appear wiser than the media, which sadly strays from truth to sensationalism and/or propaganda at times. However that does not mean I am a college professor and exceptionally educated about arctic ice. Rather it means the media is exceptionally stupid and is failing to observe and properly report what it sees.
In order to give these posts some sort of center, I try (and sometimes fail) to orbit the subject of the specific iceberg the North Pole Camera was situated upon, even though the camera was itself rescued at the end of September. “Our” berg had drifted hundreds of miles, and even with the camera removed had quite an array of equipment deployed on it, placed by more than a single college or government department, as putting these arrays in place is both dangerous and expensive, and therefore resources are pooled. Our berg happened to have two GPS’s, which proved handy when our berg apparently split in two. Our Forkasite, (which was short for “Former Camera Site,”) then became two sites, at times drifting as much as seventy miles apart (and as much as fifty miles a day.) I dubbed the first site “Forkuoy” (for I assumed it was a buoy,) and the second site “Forkarma,” (for it reported the Army data.) Unfortunately the Forkouy has started to produce garbled data, and may now be kaput, however the Army Forkarma is still drifting south, giving us an inkling of what we can’t see in the midwinter darkness. We can have no idea whether its berg will crumble, and drop the still-functioning GPS and thermometer into the dark depths of the sunless sea, or whether it will continue on, to see the very southern tip of Greenland, and the sunshine of the spring.
I’ll give the Forkarma reports when they become available, and also twice a day try to post the DMI maps of polar air pressures and temperatures that overlook our site. However those maps show storms, and I often get curious about those storms, which leads to other maps and an expanding awareness of weather patterns in Europe, Asia, and North America. After all, the little berg our Forkasite sat upon is part of a greater Arctic, which can greatly effect all northern nations, this time of year.
I will try to avoid the politics of Global Warming as much as possible, but find it very difficult to talk about our innocent iceberg without getting drawn into brawls. So you’ll have to forgive me if my eyes bug out and I breath rapidly through clenched teeth, from time to time. I usually get over these fits fairly swiftly.
The updates are added to the bottom of the post. If you are entering on my “home” page you can click the cartoon balloon beside the post’s title, which takes you down to the start of the comments, and then scroll up to the most recent update.
I had to discontinue pictures from the other cameras scattered around the Arctic Sea, because they have all been shut down, with the exception of the webcam atop a bank in Barrow, Alaska. I think the buoy-cameras may be solar powered. In any case, there is little to see in the 24 hour darkness. If I’m still around when they start the cameras back up next spring, the pictures will resume.
Lately I’ve started to include something I call the “Local View.” This is a somewhat self-centered view of how the North Pole is affecting my brother’s small farm, which is also a Childcare Center, in southern New Hampshire. I have a hunch this could be a bad winter on this side of the planet, so this feature could get interesting.
Last but not least, a long time ago I studied poetry very studiously and got good grades at it. ( A more useless subject, in terms of making money or being “practical,” I doubt exists.) However it explains the fact this blog may occasionally dissolve into purple prose. (I try to hide a sonnet in the prose at least once a week.)
Hopefully that covers everything. If I have forgotten anything, please feel free to comment. The comments are my favorite part of hosting these posts.
DECEMBER 2 —MORNING DMI MAPS—
Too busy to comment. Hope to comment this evening.
DECEMBER 2 —FORKARMA REPORT—
Today’s report places us at 74.58 N, 11.75 W, which is 8.21 miles wsw of where we reported from last, yesterday.
The westward motion is good, I think. It enhances our chances of survival if we move towards the Greenland coast, where the ice is thicker. Unless we get crushed by a huge ice jam, of course.
DECEMBER 2 —AFTERNOON DMI MAPS—
It is amazing to me how quickly the cross-polar-flow flipped from moving from the Bering Strait to Norway all the way around to moving from Siberia to Canada. Just compare today’s isobar map with map from 48 hours ago. (Older map to right.)
This complete ninety degree swing in the flow was accomplished by the passage of a weak low I dubbed “Chet” from east Siberia to the Queen Elizabeth Islands of Canada. This low was barely more than a trough or an appendage sticking out from the larger low I called “Baffeast” moving east across Barents Sea.
The former flow brought air from the north to Norway, and also repressed the passage of lows across the Atlantic to the south. As soon as that north flow was cut off, the low “Morfisthird” was able to take a more northern route and bring up a milder warm sector to Norway from the south, as it cut west of Iceland and passed to Iceland’s north.
The fact a little low like Chet can have such a big effect makes me aware we are looking at a relatively small area of our planet. The circle of the DMI maps is the sixty degrees latitude line, only a third of the way to the equator and only half as long as the equator. The area within represents a small percentage of the total area of the northern hemisphere. (You do the math for me.) However is a sort of fulcrum, a small thing that can have big effects.
As Norway abruptly gets warmer, I imagine Canada will abruptly get colder. A sort of whiplash has occurred, for yesterday the air was being drawn out of northern Canada towards Norway, but today the air is being rammed south into Canada. That air may at first include some relatively mild (for the arctic) air pulled in from the Pacific through Bering Strait by Chet, but the the temperature map’s isotherm shows the “Snout of Igor” on Chet’s heels, as extremely cold air crosses the Pole.
We experience a somewhat similar whiplash in more southern lands with the passage of a low pressure, as the warm sector brings us south winds that are followed by an abrupt shift to north winds with the passage of the trailing cold front. However that whiplash involves a storm moving along a storm track. The polar whiplash we are observing may move the storm track itself.
It will be very interesting to watch what happens over North America over the next few days. If the jet stream and storm tracks plunge south, and cold air invades due to the cross polar flow, it will be time to sit back and do some serious musing, pondering whether the Pole influenced the jet stream, or whether the Pole was merely influenced by the jet stream. (Likely a the-chicken-or-the-egg scenario.)
SECOND FORKARMA REPORT
A second Army report came in, placing our berg at 74.48 N, 11.92 W, which is 7.62 miles southwest of where it was earlier today. Temperatures are a little over a degree colder, at -16.74 C.
To the north, at our “companion buoy,” ( Buoy 2013B: ) temperatures have risen nearly three degrees, but still are a very cold -27.68 C.
With our noble Forkuoy so sadly missing-in-action, I’m paying more attention to our companion buoy, who I will henceforth refer to as “CB.” It is located at 77.36 N, 9.16 W, or 205 miles north-north-east of our Forkarma. I calculate it has moved 2.41 miles in the time our Forkarma has moved 7.62 miles, which makes me wonder if the cold is making the ice up there stiffer and harder to budge, even though it is further east.
A bit more calculating tells me that in the past four Army reports CB has moved 6.12 miles, and during that same period our Forkarma has moved 19.9 miles. The Forkarma has extended his lead by over 13 miles. Does that mean a gap of 13 miles of open water has appeared between the two, and how long would it take that water to freeze over with new “baby ice?” Or does it mean that the wind that has pushed both site west has crammed a lot of ice between the two of them? What the heck is going on up in that darkness, up there in Fram Strait?
I noticed something unusual, glancing over the ice-extent -maps. One of the three maps actually shows the ice extending from Greenland all the way to Iceland, yesterday. Likely it was only a sea dotted with ice, 25% extent, and likely the winds, that are pushing the ice west, pushed the ice away from Iceland today. However I figured it was worth mentioning, because I have never seen any map show such a thing before, and it seems noteworthy because it isn’t even winter yet.
It is very rare, but it has happened that the ice jams up between Iceland and Greenland, and one could (theoretically) even walk from Iceland to Greenland. If we got a couple more good gales, ripping up ice in the Barents Sea, and hurling it west north of Svalbard, and then flushing it all down through Fram Strait, we might see such a rare event this winter. It is unlikely, but I figured I’d share the map with you: (It may take a while to download, and double-clicking gives you an over-large enlargement.)
UK MET MAP —SOME MERCY FOR EUROPE?—
The change in the cross-polar-flow not only seems to be allowing Morfisthird to take a more northern route and bring a warm sector up towards Scandinavia, but also allowing Morfisthird’s cold front to kick the high-pressure stalled west of Ireland across the United Kingdom and on into Europe. I wish I could fly over to see if the weather is as nice as it looks. But notice that a new high-pressure is sliding up from the southwest to replace the one that was so hard to budge. Also notice that an occlusion is folded back from Morfisthird to the coast of Greenland. Some models are showing it sitting there, stewing and brewing and becoming enough of a low to steer a later low, zipping across from North America, south into Southern Norway by Thursday.
Also notice the “Etna Low” sitting down there over Mount Etna. What gives with that thing? Will it be there all winter? (Click to enlarge)
LOCAL VIEW —A gray Monday—
No granddaughter yet, so I ‘ve been functioning in a sort of mechanical manner. One of the good things about getting older is that you know it is better to be mechanical. When I was a young poet I could be paralyzed by things not being quite right. It was important, back then, to sit about and anguish. Then I learned that bill collectors don’t care a hoot about my anguish. They don’t want great poems; they want money. I attempted to explain to them that they were missing something important, but they didn’t want to listen. So, with a deep sigh of resignation, I became a pragmatic old man, who tends to worldly responsibilities in a mechanical manner, whist writing great poems in the back of his mind.
The map already shows the end to our pause from arctic attacks in the upper left of the map, where a 1056 mb high pressure pokes down from the Yukon. Already the shift in the cross-polar-flow is showing, but it will take a few days to get down here. Down here we are amidst a grey torpor, a charcoal lassitude of light drizzle and faint wind. The low pressure systems are feeble and the fronts are flaccid. The limp storms off shore are just strong enough to extend their cloud shields inland, so that we see occasional brightening from the west and darkening from the east, and the jets descending towards Manchester Airport to our east are below the clouds to our west but vanish into the lowering overcast to our east. Occasionally a cold sprinkle falls, perhaps with a few bits of sleet, but mostly it is just above freezing. (In April the exact same situation would give us a surprise four inches of snow, because the ocean would be a few degrees colder.)
An Alberta Clipper has trundled east to upper NY State like a man half asleep, as a secondary low has brewed from near nothingness off Cape Hatteras. Ordinarily such a combination of northern branch and southern branch would breed wild excitement, and perhaps a young weather-watcher is eyeing the situation with apt attention, but I have my doubts about any sort of birthing, tonight.
That high pressure up in the Yukon is going to come pressing south, revitalizing the sluggish pattern and creating what is known as a “pressing” pattern. There will be no circular gales, but rather a flat front attempting to push against a rally of summer to the far southeast. Florida will be summery, but I doubt the warmth will make it this far north. Rather the lackadaisical front over us now will get stiffer and stronger, and to the west will push all the way south to the Rio Grande between Texas and Mexico. Then little ripple after little ripple will come north along this front, which will likely sag to our south, and we’ll be on the north and perhaps snowy side, as ripple after ripple passes by to our south. I expect our brown landscape to turn white, and stay white until April.
Therefore I am going to enjoy this landscape of brown, for the final few days, though it is dreary. In the same way my daughter should try to enjoy these final dreary days of pregnancy, for they are her final days of daughter-free existence.
Having a kid is akin to a blizzard. Things you didn’t even know were hard to do become major accomplishments and treasured moments. Southern people have no clue what winter is like until they experience one themselves, and daughters have no idea what fathers go through until they themselves have daughters.
Actually, come to think of it, this could be interesting. (Click to enlarge)
DECEMBER 3 —DMI MORNING MAPS—
Between the big high pressure in Alaska and weak Chet in the Queen Elizabeth Islands quite a a lot of Arctic air is being pumped across the pole and south into North America, but it looks like Europe’s break will not last, as the north flow behind Morfistthind will replace the south flow in front of it.
Morfisthird seems to be headed for Barents Sea, which is a sort of parking lot for storms these days. The north flow behind it will repress the following storms south, and it looks like Scandinavia will be soon be back on the cold side of the storm track. Plenty of snow for Christmas up there, it appears.
LOCAL VIEW —A BREAK BEFORE WINTER MEANS BUSINESS—
You can see that big snout of high pressure poking down from Alaska and the Yukon, bringing an arctic flow down its east side. At first the air will have a bit of modified Pacific air that leaked north through the Bering Strait mixed in, but that air will continue to be modified by home-grown cooling as it comes south over snows, as well as be mixed with some cold already in place, and it will be followed by colder cold exported from Siberia. The flabby front draped over the northern states of the USA is already flinching slightly south, but for the most part the USA looks unsuspecting, like a lamb that sees no lion.
The weak low just off the east coast looks like it is slipping out to sea, and we are on the verge of escaping its cloud shield. I really shouldn’t complain, for I once spent a winter up in northern Scotland and know what truly short days are like, and that we get plenty of daylight compared to Europe, especially northern Europe. However it is amazing how little cloud-cover it takes to make life seem incredibly gloomy. The late sunrise is that much later, and the early sunset comes that much faster, and the time in the middle is dank, drizzly and dank, and even though both adults and small children seem to have an instinctive response of attempting to avoid depression and despair by becoming manic with business, psyches seem invaded by creeping shadows. People purchase bright flowers and set up Christmas Lights in an attempt to chase the gloom away, but nothing works as well as a simple beam of sunlight.
One low beam of sunlight alters the world. The grey fog becomes silver mist; each twig holds a spark of dew; the old dog that curled by the warming stove now dances a jig by the door; through a white overhead haze blue-eyed sky smiles down like a young mother. After too many charcoal smeared days (lacking even a shadow) sought to smother our spirits, even a shadow’s a glad thing, stretching cat-like across jewel-frosted grass.
One low beam makes winter birds sing. One Low beam makes the sadness pass, and if that’s all takes to end sorrow’s dream, Oh Lord, can you send us one low beam?
DECEMBER 3 —FORKARMA REPORT—
The latest report places our site at 74.37 N, 12.03 W, which is 7.9 miles southwest from where it last reported from yesterday. Temperatures had fallen to -20.12 C.
Temperature at CB to north has risen to -25.27 C.
It’s mighty cold on the west side of Fram Strait, that’s for sure.
DECEMBER 3 —AFTERNOON DMI MAPS—
“Morfisthird” looks to be a potent little gale north of Norway now, ripping away at any “baby ice” trying to form north of there. The high pressure over Canada lookd red and warm, but cold air sinks, and sinking air presses down, and pressing down makes high pressure. That’s a weight of cold up there.
LOCAL VIEW —ALL QUIET—
I’m turning in early to catch up on some sleep, but a quick look at the local map shows that storm off the coast did bomb out a bit, but only after it passed us. Nova Scotia is getting the attention, and then the next stop is Greenland, I suppose.
To our west all fronts are sagging back as the arctic starts to press. Notice that front on the Pacific coast is actually backed west out to sea.
DECEMBER 4 —DMI MORNING MAPS—
Morfisthird is parking over Barents Sea, sweeping its cold front over Scandinavia, but leaving a zipped-up occulsion in its wake all the way back past Iceland to the coast of Greenland. This will persist, fueling off the constast between cold air pouring down behind Morfisthird, and form a weak low or two, (Which I’ll dub “Morfistclue,” for Morfist-occlusion, and perhaps “Morfistcluson,” if a second follows the first.) These lows will likely be weak, and their main effect will be to put a crimp in the warmfront of the low coming up from the east coast of the USA through the Maritimes, forming a low on the warm front which, as it has plenty of warm, juicy “gasoline,” will likely zip across the Atlantic as the next gale, crashing through southern Norway and Sweden Friday morning, kept on a more southerly track by the flow still pressing south behind Morefisthird.
The low that gave us gloom, drizzle and not much else as it passed, but has grown stronger after it passed, will be dubbed “Tip” because it tiptoed by, and the one that forms on Tip’s warmfront and zips across the Atlantic will be “Tipzip.” It is interesting how swiftly these zippers can run along a warmfront. Tipzip is in Sweden on Friday morning, as Tip is still malingering back to the southwest of Greenland’s southern tip, as an occluded Labrador Low.
The flow out of Siberia is now forked, with half pouring into Canada on one side of Greenland, and half down the other, east coast of Greenland (and then back to Europe.) Aparently the Pole has decided it has plenty of cold to go around.
UKMET MAP —MORFISTHIRD HEADS NORTH—
I just thought I’d pop this map in, for the record. It shows Morfiststird atop Norway as a 965 mb gale, with its cold front sweeping across Scandinavia (and perhaps a secondary trying to form over southern Sweden and the Baltic.) The folded-over occusions stretch back from Morfisthird all the way to Iceland. The warm fronts from Tip are just appearing in the lower left over Newfoundland, and Tipzip doesn’t even exist yet. (click to enlarge)
LOCAL VIEW —THE COLD BUILDS SOUTH—
(click to enlarge)
Tip has grown to a decent little gale just departing Nova Scotia, with just enough of a flow behind it to keep warm air from coming up the east coast over me. It is cold but not terribly cold. The really cold air has made it down the Canadian Rockies and is pouring into Montana, on its way all the way down to Texas. Snows are breaking out in the Dakotas ahead of it, and it looks like something is brewing ahead of it as it pushes, with one system in Colorado and a second in Missouri. I expect they will head northeast and become some sort of Great Lakes storm to my west, giving me a final day of southwest flow before the fun and games start.
DECEMBER 4 —FORKARMA REPORT— Passing south of 74 degrees latitude
Latest position was 73.99 N, 12.41 W, and the temperature was up nearly two degrees, to -18.37 C. Since the last report I quoted, (no time stamps, but roughly 24 hours ago,) we have moved 27.32 miles south-southwest.
DECEMBER 4 —DMI EVENING MAPS—
Morfisthird continues to churn the Barents Sea, which continues to be largely ice free, though ice has grown south to the east coast of Svalbard, and Franz Josef Land, (The group of arctic islands east of Svalbard,) is now completely surrounded by ice. The storms have kept the southwest corner of the Kara Sea open, but the rest has frozen up. (the Kara sea is across that noodle-shaped island that extends the Ural Mountains into the Arctic Sea.)
(start geography lesson—That noodle-shaped island is called “Novaya Zemyla,” and the next group of islands are called Severnaya Zemyla, and if there was any sanity in place-names the next group of islands to the east would be called New-Siberianaya Zemyla, and the last island before Bering Strait would be called Wrangleaya Zemyla. The seas are seperated by Zemylas. Barents Sea is before the first, the Kara Sea is between the first and second, the Laptev sea is between the second and third, the East Siberian Sea is between the third and fourth, and the waters down into Bering strait are the Chukchi Sea. Together these five seas form the Northeast Passage. —end geography lesson )
Siberia bakes in the 24 hour sunshine of summer, and the coastal waters are understandably prone to thawing and being open, considering the land can have temperatures up near ninety. (32 Celsius.) However the situation reverses during winter, for once Siberia is snow-covered it can have temperatures colder than the icecap of Greenland. Understandably the coastal waters freeze. They tend to freeze from east to west, and as they do the storms that like to crawl along the Siberian coast, feeding off the warmth and evaporation from open waters, run into closed waters. First the East Siberian Sea freezes, and then the Laptev, and now the Kara Sea is nearly frozen over. It seems to me that, as the arctic lows move from open water to ice-covered waters, they behave in some ways like a hurricane moving over land. They promptly and predictably weaken. In the same manner, if given a chance by the forces that control their movement, they will hang back from termination. Just as hurricanes can seem to have minds, and shrink from landfalls, Arctic storms avoid moving over ice, which I suppose should be called an “icefall.”
In any case, Morfisthird is facing an icefall, as he approaches the east side of Barents Sea, and his foreward elements will weaken as his rear elements strengthen. At this point his rear elements include features in his folded over occlusion extending back towards Iceland, and the first of those features, Mortfistclue, is larger than I expected as it approaches Norway. A sort of backwards hand-off seems to occur, as if the northern lows were obeying the rules of rugby.
The net result has been to keep ice from forming on Barents Sea. However when we check another DMI feature to see if the destruction of Barents Sea Ice, and its export west and down into Fram Strait, has slowed the growth of ice, we see ice is ahead of other years with reduced ice. (Click to enlarge)
Considering Barents Sea is behind schedule, one wonders where the ice is growing so fast. To some degree it is because the Kara Sea has frozen faster than other slow years. However most of the increase doesn’t even appear on our DMI maps, because it is occurring with mildly remarkable swiftness way down south in Hudson Bay.
As our interest is further north, perhaps we should focus on the high pressure sprawling across northern Canada, Alaska and the Bering Straits. However, to be honest, I am having trouble digesting this data. On one hand high pressure is a sign of cold air, which sinks, pressing a vast weight of cold down there. However such high pressure also alters isobar, which influence the direction of winds, and it looks like the winds are cutting off the imprt of cold air into Canada, especially to the west. (This is likely a good thing, because such a load of cold has been delivered south into North America already that it could cause serious cold-related problems as far south as Texas. (For you Europeans, Texas is farther south than the African coast of the Mediterranean.))
QUICK GLANCE AT UK MET MAP
(Click to enlarge.)
I include this map mostly to show the genesis of “Tipzip,” which did not even exist on this morning’s map. Tip is way back on the lower left, slowed down and stalling, but as his warm front extended east a ripple appeared on it, aided an abetted by the veritable spiderweb of occlusions that makes up Morfistclue, northeast of Iceland.
On this map Tipzip has a central pressure of, at best, 1010 mb. But check out the forecast 24 hours from now. Tipzip is centered over southern Norway and has a pressure of 968 mb. Yowza! That storm sure did zip! (If the forecast is correct.) (Click to enlarge)
Although Tipzip zipped, look how sluggish Tip is dawdling back to the west. Also notice how, after it took us so long to budge the high pressure parked west of Ireland, another high pressure is taking a stand right in that same spot.
Lastly, it looks like the folk around Mount Etna are getting a lull, which I hope they appreciate. Who knows how long it will last?
LOCAL VIEW —-I fear this report will be biased—-
(click to enlarge)
This map is quite different from yesterday’s and the day before’s. The lull is ending. There is nothing indistinct or flabby about the fronts and features. Out of focus stuff is coming into focus.
Tip is stalled up in the right corner, only a 990 mb gale, but made a gale by the high pressure he is embedded in. His back-side north winds have pushed down over us all day, and kept the storm to our west’s front-side south winds from coming north, and creating a warm front to our south.
The storm to our west is a Great Lakes Low, but rather than calling it Fitz-something I am just going to call it “Press,” because it is in front of pressing arctic air that has below zero (Fahrenheit) temperatures entering the USA, when it is still autumn!
Southwest of that, over Arizona, is a Rocky Mountain low that was over Colorado, but was pushed south by the pressing cold. I dub it “Zing,” (for the second syllable pf “Pressing.”)
What is most interesting to me is the cold front that extends southwest from Zing into the Pacific west of the central Baja, Mexico. Although they stopped drawing that cold front offshore, the clouds show it curves back north towards Alaska. The mottled cloud cover in the air-mass within that front suggests stratocumulus, and a cold air-mass. In fact a polar air-mass has shoved Pacific air back towards Hawaii, and the front off the Pacific coast of Canada separates cold polar air from colder Arctic air. In other words, benign and kindly Chinook winds are thousands of miles away from interrupting the arctic attack.
A news-worthy cold wave is charging south into the USA, and ordinarily I’d be interested. However, to be honest, I don’t care a flying flip.
My daughter had her baby. Her labor was amazingly swift, considering her mother labored long and hard to deliver her. We are talking two hours compared to twenty. However the result was the same: A beautiful, tiny girl.
The forecast was that my daughter was genetically disposed to suffer twenty hours, but the forecast was wrong. Things are not always as bad as they appear. Therefore, even though a major arctic attack is on the verge of clobbering the USA, I am not inclined to care a flying flip about how things appear. Instead I will simply sit back and be glad things have turned out the way things are.
SEPTEMBER 5 —DMI MORNING MAPS—
Barents Sea continuing to be trashed, as Morfisthird exits stage right and Morfistclue enters stage left. Moefistclue has gotten much stronger than I expected. Tipzip is barely apparent at very bottom. Cross-polar-flow moving from Siberia right down into Fram Strait and over our Forkarma. I wonder if the ice will increase in the strait.
A copycat of Chet is crossing the Pole on the Bering Strait side, looking weak and insignificant, but likely to switch the flow back into Canada as Chet did. (I didn’t notice it last night, but now it is obvious.) Call it “Chettwo.” In its wake a “Snout of Igor” will stick right across the Pole.
LOCAL VIEW —mild weather hanging on in the east—
The warm front extending southeast from Press has made no progress north towards us over night, but the southeast wind ahead of it brings ocean-warmed air inland, and we have drizzle with temperatures just above freezing. (I am ignoring that little low the fellow who drew the map drew in at the end of the warm front, for now.)
To the west of Press cold air is driving right down to Zing. Temperatures in Denver were thirteen below last night, ( -25, Celsius,) before midnight, breaking yesterday’s low temperature record by eight degrees. Fortunately that air will be moderated before it comes east to us. An upper air ridge is developing in the southeast, and that brings up warm air to resist the progress of cold from the west. In 48 hours the 500 mb level map looks like this: (click to enlarge.) (Dr. Ryan Maue’s map from WeatherBELL.)
The cold air is so strong it will sink under the warm flow and bleed east, and a battleground will set up right over us. Likely rain will win at first, but then snow will win out in the end.
This morning the world was still brown, in the dark December daylight. As I drove a couple boys to kindergarten the mist was thick enough to make the roads shiny and reflect white headlights and orange turn-signals in the gloom, but thin enough to reveal the hills rolling away, dimmer and dimmer into the distance, with the valleys lighter than the peaks, like a Japanese watercolor.
FORKARMA DATA —Can we avoid Iceland?—
Latest report puts us at 73.59 N, 12.75 W, with an air temperature of -14.79 C. We have moved 28.51 miles south-southwest since yesterday’s report.
Now here is something interesting to contemplate. Consider the longitude we are at, and the longitude Iceland is at. We are at 12.75 W, and if you trace that south you see it passes to the east of Iceland. Iceland’s east edge is at 13.5 W, and it extends west past 24 N. If our Forkarma is to pass through the Denmark Strait, (and if the companion buoy to our north is to follow suit,) it seems obvious they must squeeze to the west. However there is only so much space between Greenland and Iceland. Will we fit?
Until we get down to 70 N the coast of Greenland doesn’t curve west much, so the westward motion tends to pack the ice and make it thicker along the coast. Once south of 70 N the coast falls away to the southwest, leaving a space of 180 miles between Iceland and Greenland. Our Forkasite is roughly 60 miles from the coast, with ice extending roughly 40 miles to its east, so it seems the ice would have 80 miles to spare. However it must navigate a sharp turn west, and must not spread out and have the waters freeze between the bergs.
The ice actually does this every year without much fanfare, but every hundred years or so there is a sort of ice-jam in Denmark Strait. I’m keeping my eyes peeled on the off-hand chance this might be one of those years. The first map below shows the current extent, with an odd bulge towards Iceland. (click to enlarge)
The next map is more difficult to read, because the white area shows not merely ice, but also sea-water right at the freezing point. One interesting thing about salt water is that, unlike fresh water, it does not stay at the surface and freeze, but often it promptly sinks and is replaced by slightly warmer water rising up from below. Often you can see an area turn white and then purple again in a day, and in the case of a sea that freezes over, like the Laptev Sea, this can happen many times before the sea finally freezes.
However I like the map because it gives me a hint of what the water is like past the edge of the ice. This current map shows that the water north of Denmark Strait and south of Fram Strait is quite cold, and is likely more conducive to expanding ice than shrinking ice.
This doesn’t answer the question, “Can we avoid Iceland?” However it makes watching more interesting. Stay tuned!
DECEMBER 5 —DMI AFTERNOON MAPS—
It is difficult to see the real news on this map, which is Tipzip crashing into Southern Norway. (Down in “comments” Stewart Pid mentions they named the gale “Xaver” over in Europe. Rediculous. “Tipzip” is far more sensible.) It’s pressure, which was only down to 1010 mb yesterday, was 967 mb over southern Norway, and may have been lower over the North Sea before landfall.
What will be interesting to watch is the effect its southern route has on Morfisthird (entering the Kara Sea,) and Morfistclue, (atop Norway.) A northern version of the Fujiwhara Effect seems to get there northern storms wheeling around each other a South American Gauchos’ three-stoned boleadoras. I can never figure out which storm will weaken and which will strengthen, when they do these dances.
The cross-polar-flow continues to pour cold over our Forkarma east of Greenland, however a forked flow is starting to develop as Chettwo crosses towards Canada, with a second fork pronging Canada.
I imagine the interruption and then resumption of a flow into Canada will have a reflection further south, as an interruption and resumption of the arctic attack further south.
It would also be interesting to know if sucking all this cold air north from Siberia gives China milder weather, or whether Siberia can produce enough cold to attack in two directions at once. I myself have no idea.
UK MET MAP OF TIPZIP CRASHING INTO SOUTHERN NORWAY
FORKARMA DATA —COMPARISON WITH COMPANION BUOY—
A second report for today places our Forkarma at 73.31 N, 12.77 W, with temperatures slightly warmer at -14.42 C. Since earlier today we have moved 19.42 miles only slightly west of due south. Winds must be strong from the north.
The CB (Companion Buoy) is located at 76.77 N, 10.24 W, which is 244.16 miles to our north. Temperatures are at -20.80 C.
Since yesterday CB has moved 27.93 miles south while our Forkarma has moved 47.68 miles south. In theory nearly twenty miles of open water has appeared between the two, as the Forkarma increases its lead. The question then becomes, does the open water stay open? With the water close to the freezing point, and with temperatures so low and winds likely strong, it seems likely the water is skimming over with some form of sea-slush or baby-ice.
Also the ice likely shifts west to fill in the gaps, which would tend to make the ice narrower in its extent away from Greenland. If you look back up to the extent map you see a sort of narrowing down towards Iceland, except for the bulge right in Denmark Strait. However the problem with this idea is that our Forkarma had hardly any westward movement in the last observation.
LOCAL VIEW —Warm Front Passes—
The 0000z map, (dated December 6 though it is still December 5 here,) shows the warm front still south of us, as it was throughout the daylight, which was fairly purple in the pea-soup fog. The cold air hung in at the surface stubbornly, as temperatures slowly rose from the low thirties to high thirties. The fire I built out in the pasture of the Childcare was a welcome place, especially for my staff, but the kids raced about in the early darkness with small flashlights I handed out, and seemed a lot warmer than I was. The wind shifted about, but became a drift from the southwest after dark, but the fog hung in and the temperatures stayed low. Then, around seven o’clock, just as I was driving to a Bible study of grizzled old grouches and their better halves, the fog vanished. Abruptly the air was not raw, and became downright kindly, as temperatures jumped up to fifty. (10 Celsius) (It never ceases to amaze me how a northern body can adjust in a week, and fifty can seem warm.)
The map shows “Press” has become big over James Bay, (if not deep at 982 mb,) and his occlusion has become a secondary cold front swinging down behind. Intense cold is filling in behind as high pressure, in a way a “Snout of Igor” reaching all the way south to north Texas. The weight of this pressing cold is crushing “Zing” south, to a redevelopment on the primary cold front, now touching the warm waters of the Gulf of Mexico. This primary cold front is slowing down, as a building Bermuda High pumps warm air north to fight it. This primary front will likely stall and be a battleground for a while, and Zing will likely be the first of several ripples moving up that front.
The cold will get here eventually, but tonight I’ll enjoy the pleasurable guilt of being at fifty degrees as Texans experience fifteen. In terms of Celsius, it is the difference between ten above and ten below.
To Europeans it makes perfect sense that it is fifty in the stark, glacier-scoured, granite landscape of New Hampshire, for at latitude 42.75 I’m at the latitude of sunny Spain. However for Texas to be at fifteen is nuts, to the European psyche, because the top of Texas is at the latitude of the Strait of Gibraltar. The bottom of Texas is at 26 degrees north, as far south as African Morocco’s southern border with Western Sahara.
On this side of the Atlantic we are fools, when it comes to comprehending the power of the North Atlantic Gales which Europeans deem ordinary. However, (south of Siberia and Scandinavia,) Europeans are fools, when it comes to comprehending how far south the arctic wolves can howl, over here.
What Texas is being hit by was called by the old-time cowboys a “Blue Norther,” and it was very dangerous work to herd cattle in the winter, when a Blue Northern could come down and funnel into the Rio Grande valley and bring sub-zero cold even to the delta at the Gulf of Mexico at Brownsville. ( “Sub-zero” is -17.77 Celsius.) (Try to imagine that kind of cold hitting the south border of Morocco.)
However the gales of the North Atlantic are equally hard to imagine.
Once, when young, I worked for an old fellow named Amoray up in Maine who struck me as nicely educated and intellectual, but perhaps a bit effete, until he mentioned, in passing, that during World War Two he crewed on a “Liberty Ship” in the North Atlantic.
I asked him, even though I knew that they had to sail those rolling tubs during winter gales, “In the winter?”
I asked, “Was the rolling bad?”
He seemed to appreciate that a young fool like me actually knew that Liberty Ships were cranked out in quantity without all that much attention to quality, and his eyes grew sharper, as he regarded me keenly, and nodded again.
I figured he’d never talk, but made a final attempt, asking, “Was it bad?”
Persistence paid, because I got an amazing story.
He said he had to go on deck because he had to go fifteen yards from one part of the ship to another, and the builders hadn’t included an interior doorway. He tried to time his dash to a lull in the screaming wind, but as he staggered down the deck the ship rolled over so far a huge white wave came out of the darkness, clobbered him, and though he clung to a rail with all his might and main, it tore him from the ship and dragged him out into the bitter cold blackness.
As the ship rolled the other way he got a final view of dim light up above, with his life over. There was no way to stop to retrieve a man overboard in such a gale, (even in a calm they couldn’t stop because German submarines would torpedo them if they did,) and he thought of the girl he’d never see again nor marry. The railing was a silhouette high above, and he was far below, but then the boat came rolling back down, and the sea picked him up higher and higher until he was looking down down at the deck from above. Then, with a smash, he was hurled aboard right by a doorway, which he ripped open and scrambled through and slammed shut.
My last question was, “Were you hurt?”
“Just a broken arm.”
And the moral of my story is that it is likely unwise to call any man effete, no matter which side of the Atlantic he is from, until you learn what he has been through.
DECEMBER 6 —MORNING DMI MAPS—
Forked cross-polar flow continues. The source region in Siberia has some minus thirty-five air. ”Tipzip” is 962 mb gale in Baltic.
Our site is at 73.06 N, 12.81 W, with temperatures at -13.37 C. We’ve moved 17.35 miles since yesterday, pretty much due south. Westward motion could be increased in 48 hours, when strong east winds are forecast.
DECEMBER 6 —AFTERNOON DMI MAPS—
Too busy to comment. Draw your own conclusions.
LOCAL VIEW —DECEMBER 6 EVENING RADAR—
Not much low pressure on the map, but that blue on the radar is snow. That’s why I’m busy, though it is still raining here.
DECEMBER 7 —DMI MORNING MAPS—
“Tipzip” has gone crashing into Russia, just off our map at around five o’clock. The remains of Morfistthird and Morfistclue continue to loiter around the periphery of Barents Sea in a weakened state, likely allowing the waters to calm a bit and some baby ice to form.
Tip stalled out around Labrador, and I’m going to call the low kicked east of Cape Farewell (southern tip of Greenland) “Tipson,” though I haven’t had time to pay close attention, and it could be argued it is actually Tip.
Cold air is streaming north from Siberia and and continuing to fork at the Pole. Some nasty cold is entering Canada now, with the other fork pushing the below freezing isotherm well south of Iceland and east to the top of Scotland. A blob of above freezing isotherms has progressed up the coast of Norway and may be the gasoline for the next Barents sea Gale.
Despite the “Snout of Igor” feeding so much cold onto the Arctic Sea, the cold is not hearded up there, and is so promptly exported that temperatures up around the Pole are actually above normal, as is often the case when it is very cold further south. You want a zonal flow colding the cold in a tight circle around the Pole to get the coldest temperatures up there, but so far this autumn the pattern has been “meridianal,” with blocks and a loopy jet stream, and arctic outbreaks.
FORKARMA DATA —South of 73 north latitude—
Today’s report puts our site at 72.95 N, 12.92 W, with air temperatures moderating to -12.45 C. (In contrast, our Companion buoy 240 miles north has temperatures down to -27.19 C.) We have slowed down a bit, which is likely the calm before the storm, as I expect Tipson to bring strong east winds and crush the ice against the coast of Greenland. We moved 7.95 miles south-southwest.
LOCAL REPORT —THE START OF THE ORDEAL—
I’m going to start out with yesterday’s map which shows the front just passing over us in the morning. It was up around fifty in the predawn, but gradually fell through the forties as the day passed, with sprinkles of rain at times, but other times showing bits of blue between a high flat overcast of alto cumulus. It was actually quite lovely, as the sun is so low in December there are shades of sunset colors even at noon.
However the little low Zing was running up Press’s cold front. You can see the bulge in the clouds behind the front. By evening it was dark and starting to rain more heavily, with temperatures dropping down into the thirties. (This makes people nervous around here, for a similar rain turned into a severe ice-storm five years ago, leaving us without power for ten days, which is an experience I don’t want to go through again.) Around seven-thirty the rain abruptly turned to heavy, sticky snow, and it snowed heavily for around a half hour, making the Christmas lights my wife put up around the front doorway look festive, and then the snow became lighter. (click map to enlarge.)
The second map is this morning’s, which shows the ripple has passed out to sea, with a second ripple following it further south. The world outside is whitened and wintery with only an inch or two of snow. Even that small amount will lower temperatures between five and ten degrees. Life abruptly becomes more of an ordeal.
The map should actually have a second cold front from lake Superior south to Oklahoma, as a second shot of even colder air is contained in the arctic high sliding southeast behind the departing Press. The air entering is around minus forty, and the only good thing I have to say about such cold is that it is the same temperature in Fahrenheit as it is in Celsius. That cold will moderate some as it comes east towards us, but with increasing snow cover it will not moderate as much. We could see below zero Fahrenheit at the end of next week.
Here is a screen shot from Joseph D’Aleo’s blog at WeatherBELL, in case you have ever thought of moving to Montana. Brrr! (Click to enlarge.)
One last thing: At the very top of today’s local map you can see snippets of a warm and cold front. That is actually “Chet2,” tansiting the Pole from Siberia, and bringing the Snout of Igor across and down. So, though we get a bit of a break after the current cold wave, It should be swiftly followed by another. The danger is that rather than aiming down at Montana it will aim further east. So I’d best get to work.
DECEMBER 7 —AFTERNOON DMI MAPS—
The big Snout-of-Igor high pressure crossing the arctic is loaded with nasty cold for North America. I think it is colder than it looks from the isotherm map, as the buoys off the Canadian coast are reporting temperatures below minus thirty, which the map doesn’t show. for example Buoy 2013F: is reporting -30.20 C and Buoy 2013G: is reporting -30.07 C.
Europe is getting some nasty east and northeast winds around the backside of Tipzip (AKA “Xaver.”) It doesn’t really show on the DMI Arctic map, which mostly shows the fork in the flow and the wind coming down via east Greenland and across the North Atlantic. As cold as that wind can be, it is greatly moderated by its Atlantic passage and nothing like the cruel east winds from Siberia. However Tipson is appearing south of Iceland, likely the forerunner of some dramatic changes for West Europe, and a time when the west will clash with the east.
It is interesting to watch the retreat of the zero isotherm back north. It is hard to keep air that cold over ten degree water. (Thirty-two Fahrenheit air over fifty degree water.)
That low to the southwest of Greenland is the first appearance of “Press.”
POSSIBLE SOUTHERLY SURGE FOR WESTERN EUROPE
The current UK Met map shows some cold winds in the wake of Tipzip (AKA Xaver.) However a warm front has reclaimed Ireland and Great Britain. (Click to enlarge)
As Tipzip moves further into Russia it is likely to bring the sort of cold down in its wake that defeated Napoleon and Hitler, over Russia and Poland, and perhaps briefly extending east into Scandinavia. However a feature I would not have expected, looking at this map, appears off Morrocco and travels up west of Spain and eventually Ireland, and in 72 hours the GPS model produces this map of isobars and winds. (Thanks to Ryan Maue and WeatherBELL for turning unintelligible GFS data into great maps.) (Click to enlarge and click again to enlarge further.)
What is most interesting is that orange stripe of 30-40 knot winds from off the coast of Morocco right up to southern Norway. I can’t imagine that is a cold flow. It looks downright balmy. I wonder if they have a name for out-of-African-Atlantic storms. It never gets that big, but its flow is a major feature for days.
This map predicts neither Press nor Tipson will develop anything major right away. Tipson looks occluded into a string of lows, with the one up in the upper right having the potential to stir up a ruckus in Barents Sea, while Press also looks seriously stalled and occluded, with the secondary down over Newfoundland looking like it might brew up into a Newfoundland gale.
However the real news will likely be the southerly flow up into Western Europe, and how it interacts with the cold over Russia. Stay tuned!
BUOY 2013C —STILL WANDERING, BUT SLOWER, (UNTIL JUNE)
Some who have been following my musings for a while may recall the saga of Buoy 2013C: , which broke loose from a reletavely stable ice shelf and took off down Nare Strait, between Greenland and Canada. After a while it turned sharply west, as if it intended to traverse a northern branch of the Northwest Passage during winter, however it found that route rough sledding, and headed back out towards Baffin Bay. Baffin Bay has become choked with ice, and for a time it seemed this buoy had been frozen fast, however a couple of decent storms shooting up into Baffin Bay seems to have budged it. Between December first and seventh it moved from 72.82 N, 75.57 W to 72.68 N, 74.39 W, a total of 26.15 miles to the east-southeast.
While it may now take this buoy a week to travel a distance our Forkarma can cover in a day, its motion is a reminder how mobile the ice is up there. It is a common misconception to think the arctic is frozen solid during the winter, silent and still. The truth is there are tides and there are storms, and stillness is a rarity.
Anyway, check out the travels of this berg on the map below. (Double click to enlarge fully, so you can see all the loops.)
LOCAL VIEW —I’d rather look at maps—
Click maps to to enlarge
The upper air map to the right shows the high in Alaska driving the record-setting cold south and digging the trough, however the high to the southeast will put up a fight.
The little ripple over Georgia, “Zingson,” can’t duck out to sea, with that ridge in the way, especially as the low-pressure along the cold front, that his predecessor Zing travelled along, is undergoing a “trough-split,” which is just another way of saying the isobars of the cold arctic high are merging with the warm Bermuda high. So Zingson is fated to move slowly, gathering what forces he can from a south that is basically swept clear of moisture. You can see a little plume of Pacific air shooting through Mexico and already making a little bulge over Texas, but that is not much to go on. The Gulf of Mexico is still quite warm and may generate some moisture through evaporation with surprising speed, but time is short. The Atlantic can generate moisture as well. Lastly, the northern stream is bringing down a weak impulse, (that orange, dashed line at the top of the map slanting down to the left,) (“Chet,”) but the only moisture there would have to evaporate from the Great Lakes. All in all, there are not the ingredients for a big storm, but there are the ingredients. Zingson won’t go away, and next week will begin with just enough slop to annoy.
I’m going to call that Rocky Mountain low over Nevada “Rocky,” because I am not feeling all that original tonight. That low will just sit there, because the huge arctic high dominating the country will make eastward progress a joke, for a while.
What impresses me about recent maps is how far out to sea the Pacific air has been driven. They even bothered to put in a snippet of warm front on the above, local, surface map, (about a third of the way to Hawaii,) to accent the contrast. You can see the clouds from there up to Alaska, marking the boundary. Usually the Pacific storms come east as lovely, swirling features and crash into Vancouver and Seattle and Portland on the west coast, but we’ll have to wait for this pattern to change to see that. For now the arctic is pouring south, and it means business.
Fortunately I’m several thousand miles east of its brunt. This is especially true as we’ve been dealing with a “stomach ‘flu” among the children at our Childcare. It actually is a virus and has a name, but to me it is just “a twenty-four hour stomach bug.” This is what we called it fifty years ago, and, as it is a virus, antibiotics are useless, and having an official scientific name is also useless, (until science comes up with a vaccine.)
In any case, we can’t afford to get sick, until the weekend. Then we have to get over it by Monday. This is all well and good for me, as I don’t at all mind having an excuse to lie around and occasionally shuffle to my computer to see what is new on the web. However my wife has things to do and places to go and people to meet on the weekend, and consequently she never gets sick, but this morning was an exception to the rule. She was much sicker than I, which is unheard of.
I actually pity any virus which is foolish enough to invade my body. My flesh is so loaded with horrible toxins from a misspent youth I figure the tiny creatures must have a terrible time of it, and feel even worse than I do. I usually feel rotten, but can function.
Today we had plans to go visit our brand new granddaughter, but of course you can’t do that when infectious. There was also a local Christmas concert my wife adores she could not attend. Her mood was not good. I brought her ginger ale on ice and some pretzels, and cared for her chickens and rabbit, but didn’t really expect a parade for being good. People who are sick are not good at “walking on the sunny side, the sunny side, the sunny side. Walking on the sunny side of life.”
Having my better side at her worst made the world look bleak, (though the outdoors was actually quite beautiful, as the snow fell so wet it was glued to the maple branches, pine boughs and deep-green hemlocks, and the increasingly cold breeze couldn’t dislodge it.) I rather listlessly shoveled the inch or so of snow from steps and walks, thinking about getting old and mortality and other pleasant subjects, all the while feeling queasy but never truly sick enough to avoid annoying chores like taking the trash to the recycling center. I had no ambition to take on major jobs, such as building a warmer coop for the rooster, whose comb looks frostbit. (Not to mention the fact the fresh snow showed the prints of a fox who walked around and around the rooster’s coop, even digging fiercely at the frozen earth at the rear side.) I just got by, doing the minimum, troubled by the sense that, while just-getting-by might be fine for summery days, it is downright dangerous as a northern winter bears down on you.
I really should be doing more. Modern youths have it much rougher than I did when I was their age, and with a new granddaughter I should be writing a million-seller to help out with finances, rather than pecking away at this weather-blog. I should be writing the lyrics for hit songs, and composing fabulous sonnets. But how can you write a sonnet when, rather than artistic ecstasy, you basically feel queasy? (I know many modern poets basically describe being queasy, but I don’t find such poetry all that poetic, and certainly not inspiring. And they sure don’t sell much of their poetry, that’s for sure.)
In any case, I trudged about the sunny, snow-brilliant landscape feeling pretty sorry for myself. At age sixty you sometimes wonder if you have what it takes any more. You wonder as badly as an insecure adolescent. Am I too this? Am I too that? Am I too jaded? Am I too worn out? When you shiver in the wind, you wonder if you simply lack the testosterone to be hot blooded. The sun is shining, but is my eyesight too faded to see it? Am I too this? Am I too that?
Too old and too cold to go out and fight the battle that will never end? The war you can never win, for who can stop night from falling or winter from coming?
For what do we endure? For some it is to glean and hoard heaps of food and fine firewood so they can dodder and munch toothless, mean and miserly a midst youth’s poverty. Could I do that?
For others it is mostly a fear of freezing and dying that fuels hustle, which is to say they don’t advance, but steer away in cowed retreat.
Have I no muscle left? No will to stride? No itch to strive? Oh, yes I do, for I’m still alive.
(And as proof, I just wrote a hidden-sonnet despite being queasy.) (The rhyming words are fight, war, night, for, glean, wood, mean, could, fear, hustle, steer, muscle, strive and alive.)
DECEMBER 8 —DMI MORNING MAPS—
It is fairly quiet up in the arctic, with the weakened remains of Morfisthird still milling around in the Barents Sea. Press and Tipson are stalled either side of Cape Farewell on the southern tip of Greenland, but Tipson is managing to kick a zipper east along its folded-over occlusion. What a difference a few days makes! When Tip kicked Tipzip east, it exploded into a Baltic gale, (and still spins in Russia, as a weakening 994 mb low.) However when Tipson tries the same stunt, its zipper (which I suppose should be called “Tipsonzip”) doesn’t get all that big.
The main feature is the “Snout of Igor” pouring cold across into Canada.
QUICK GLANCE AT UK MET MAP
(CLICK TO ENLARGE)
You can see what I was talking about above: Press and Tipson either side of Cape Farewell, kicking a weak Tipsonzip under Iceland and north of Scotland, but Tipsonzip unable to emulate Tipzip, which remains as the weak low over Russia. Instead that weak low at the very bottom of the map, (“Mork,” which is short for Morocco,) is going to come straight north all the way to Iceland, attaching itself to Tipson’s cold front, and bringing a vast warm sector north from off Africa. It should be interesting to watch that warmth flood Europe. Eventually I imagine some will effect the Barents Sea, but that’s a ways off.
LOCAL VIEW —Zingson graying the day—
It is interesting how they drew the map, with the front stalled way down in Florida and the cloud shield and snow way up in Ohio. In any case, Zingson is headed up our way, to make Monday a mess. Basically the high pressure will retreat north and we will get the east winds on its underside, bringing in Atlantic moisture.
It was down to sixteen here last night, (minus ten Celsius,) but rose a degree by dawn, which was lovely, with the sun able to peek beneath the advancing cloud shield of thin cirrostratus, a milky haze made lemony by the sun, with just a hint of orange. Then the sun got above the clouds and swiftly everything became grey, with the sun a smear through the thin clouds, cirrostratus merging to altostratus. A wintery look, perfect for singing Christmas carols in.
DECEMBER 8 —AFTERNOON DMI MAPS—
Morfisthird continues to mill around weakly in Barents Sea. Press and Tipson are still stalled, but Tipson has become a pretty impressive 964 mb gale, and is likely cramming the ice in Davis Strait against Greenland, away from Iceland, and making a rare “ice jam” unlikely until the next surge of ice comes south in several weeks.
The Snout of Igor continues to cross the Pole. I assume that small low off the north coast of Alaska is merely a ripple in that flow, a bit like Chet and Chet2. I’ll warch it it, but assume it will be swept south.
An interesting side-effect of this Snout of Igor pattern is that the Bering Strait has been slow to freeze up.
No sign of Mork coming up towards Iceland in this northern view.
FORKARMA DATA —Milder south winds push us back north of 73 degrees north—
We have moved to 73.19 N, 12.93 W, with temperatures up to a milder -3.69 C. Since yesterday we have moved 16.64 miles nearly straight north. That’s got to make a mess of the ice further north that is coming south.
Let me check something. Hmm. Our companion buoy is now 234 miles north, having come nearly due south 7 miles as Forkarma headed roughly 17 miles nearly due north. Yes, I think I can hear the distant sound of crunching and grinding. Also it is much colder at the CB, with temperatures at -21.33 C.
Likely this crash-up is a brief oddity before Tipson’s east winds hit.
FORKUOY BRIEFLY REPORTS IN
Perhaps the mild conditions effecting Forkarma has had some sort of beneficial effect on Forkuoy, because for the first time in seven days it reported its position. It was only three reports, between 1800z yesterday and midnight today, but during those six hours it moved from 72.381°N, 9.087°W to 72.387°N, 9.128°W. That would be a movement west-northwest, and place it roughly 96 miles east-southeast of Forkarma. No other information available.
LOCAL VIEW —I hope the snow is staying south—
I have to turn in, as snow would mean an early start to work tomorrow, but if you compare these maps with this morning’s, it looks like the cloud shield and snow has been pushed a little south of east, and may have trouble making it this far north.
As I go to sleep I’ll think about that warm front poking south from the Yukon. A cross-polar feature?
DECEMBER 9 —DMI MORNING MAPS—
Morfisthird weakly persists in Barents Sea. Tipson remains strong west of Iceland, with Press to its west weaker and being consumed into its rotation, and an apendage forming to its east over Iceland. (The weak Tipsonzip moved east and entered the Baltic Sea, remaining weak and not emulating Tipzip.)
Snout of Igor continues to cross Arctic to Canada. Interesting contrast in very cold isotherms in the core of the cold and warmer isotherms towards Bering Strait. I can envision it as a sort of front, with small impulses like Chet, Chet2, and the little low I noticed yesterday (Chet3) running along the flow from Siberia to Canada. I’ve noticed each storm has hit the Canadian coast further west, and the last one was more in Alaska than Canada. The same devision between very cold and moderately cold air can be seen coming down the Canadian Rockies in North America now. (Ryan Maue map from WeatherBELL) (Click twice to enlarge to full extent)