Over the last 30–40 years, all branches of science have advanced at an amazing rate. The common theme behind this trend is the continual emergence of new technologies. They make it possible for scientists to pursue questions today that were impossible to address or to even ask only a few years ago. Arctic oceanography is no exception to this trend, but it also has another dimension. It is now much more feasible to work in the Arctic at any time of the year, although it is still not exactly easy.

It was November 1977. Fresh from graduate school and woefully inexperienced, I was in charge of an oceanographic survey in Davis Strait (between Baffin Island and Greenland). I joined the ship at the small settlement of Frobisher Bay on Baffin Island. Loading supplies took much longer than planned. After this date, ice conditions dictated that any resupply in the Canadian Arctic must wait until early July. The alternative was Greenland or Newfoundland. There was no jetty in the town and the flat-bottomed boats that usually moved cargo from ocean-going ships had been hauled onto the beach for the winter. They resembled old military landing craft. Perhaps that was their provenance. This time, everything came out by freighter canoe and the weather was grim. After a couple of days, we were almost ready to go. That evening, most of the scientific crew went ashore for one last meal of vaguely fresh vegetables. It was, of course, dark or twilight, snowing and blowing a gale and the little plates of pancake ice on the water seemed to be whispering something about hypothermia. It was no surprise that the freighter canoe took a long time to find us. I was on the bridge watching the canoe trying to come safely alongside when the skipper, always a man of few words, turned to me and pronounced: “If you don't have to go, don't go”.