News Watch &#187; Jørn Hurum

Sea Monsters of the North: Day 6–Mountain vs. Chainsaw

Sea Monsters of the North: Day 8

Sea Monsters of the North: Day 9

Sea Monsters of the North: Day 10

Sea Monsters of the North: Day 10-Welcoming Tourists to the Site

Jørn Hurum — Fri, 17 Aug 2012 03:05:25 +0000

By Erik Tunstad

You need patience in this line of work. Not even today did we get the answer to whether or not Britney the plesiosaur fossil has a head. It would be a first – as mentioned a couple of times in earlier posts. Hope is still hanging by a thread. We are probably just a few centimeters away from the answer. That we didn’t get it yesterday is not due to laziness.

There was no inspiration to get out before what normal people would call lunch time. On the other hand, we did end the previous day a bit later than normal people. And it also had been the hardest day with the rain and so on. Today however, the Wimann Mountain showed its most beautiful side, and we welcomed another group of tourists who had come to see the dig.

Today, the Wimann Mountain showed its most beautiful side. Photo by Erik Tunstad.

Popular science tourism is a relatively new trend. As people have more energy when their holiday starts, in combination with more money, many want to do more than just sun bathe. To experience a real excavation is one alternative.

Groups from Spitsbergen Travel arrive almost every day, with two to twelve curious and interested tourists. They have to be, to climb more than 400 vertical meters up an icy mountainside, just to stand there and look down in a muddy hole. A hole with visible bones, granted, but it’s still not exactly like hitting a bar on Mallorca.

Jørn welcomes tourists outside the camp, with an introductory lecture about the project and what we have found so far before they start the climb up the mountainside. Photo by Erik Tunstad.

Jørn welcomes them outside the camp, with an introductory lecture about the project and what we have found so far before they start the climb up the mountain side, where the tourists can watch the mud people digging, up to their knees in dirty water.

Other places around the world, the tourists pay to be part of the excavation, Pat tells us. They can spend up to a week in the field, which means a good contribution to the field kitty. The same principle is valid here on Svalbard, says Jørn – but the fossils are too fragile to be handled by tourists.

Jørn’s alternative financing has throughout the years led to more than a bit of criticism from some colleagues. Serious research should be financed by the government, it is said. But when the government isn’t paying, what are you supposed to do?

Spitsbergen Travel is one of the companies supporting Jørn’s project financially. They fly the team up and down to Svalbard, pay for hotel and rental cars in Longyearbyen, and transport by boat to and from the camp site. It all adds up to about 150 000 kroner.

Without them, no marine reptiles. It is as simple as that. And what does Spitsbergen Travel get out of this? Well, they sell tourist trips out here.

—

We had two groups of tourists today. One was from Spitsbergen Travel, the other was from Studietur Nord – a group of politicians. To tell the truth, the whole project started with an enthusiastic visit from Norwegian Minister of Education Øystein Djupedal, but since then it has been quiet from that part. Today’s delegation unfortunately can’t brag of pushing the boundries of our knowledge – at least not those concerning ancient life.

But at least they made the trip. Even if they didn’t have time to walk all the way up to see Britney, where we spent the day protecting the marine reptile’s so far 36 neck cervical vertebrae. (If we are lucky, she won’t have more than 40 of them – so we’re right at the finishing line!)

Some of Britney's neck vertebrae after being exposed. If we're lucky there won't be more than four more before we hit the skull. Photo by Erik Tunstad.

The excitement to finish the excavation is so high that people are hesitant to retire at night. We had to make Aubrey leave the crater at about one a.m. last night.

We had to make Aubrey leave the crater at about one a.m. last night (yes, night, this is the land of the midnight sun!). Photo by Erik Tunstad.

Now it’s dinner time. And the answer of whether the plesiosaur’s skull has survived will be ours tomorrow.

Read More From the Expedition

Sea Monsters of the North: Day 6–Mountain vs. Chainsaw

Sea Monsters of the North: Day 8

Sea Monsters of the North: Day 9

Sea Monsters of the North: Day 9

Jørn Hurum — Fri, 17 Aug 2012 02:25:25 +0000

By Erik Tunstad

How much is there to say about mud? Brown, wet and cold. Not very amusing to look at.

How much is there to say about fog? Not very exciting that either.

How much is there to say about 12 men in a hole?

A bit more.

The excavated hole is now deep enough for team members to stand up in. Photo by Erik Tunstad.

For example that four of them are women. Then that I have never seen more wet and dirty people – ever. Not that I’ve seen happier people either. This gang’s morale can’t be broken.

And Svalbard really tried to break us yesterday.

If Friday was mud hell, I’ll give up trying to find a suitable word for today. It was spent up on the hill with our beloved plesiosaur fossil, “Britney.”

I have never seen more wet and dirty people – ever. Photo by Erik Tunstad.

The “sardines in a tin can” feeling might be the worst part. The feeling of being stuck in something you can’t get out of. Not even if you go inside. It’s twilight. You can’t see further than a couple of meters. We’re in the middle of a cloud. It doesn’t rain. It’s just wet. The air is as much drops of water as oxygen. The drops move upwards, downwards, sideways – and penetrate everything.

If Friday was mud hell, I’ll give up trying to find a suitable word for today. Photo by Erik Tunstad.

And still the group wasn’t broken. You could hear laughter in the mountain slopes, while we struggled to dig ton after ton of rock and mud out of the permafrost.

Despite the weather, the group wasn’t broken. You could hear laughter in the mountain slopes. Photo by Erik Tunstad.

But we haven’t yet found the answer to our biggest question: is there a skull at the end of this huge neck?

Twelve hours on the borders of superhuman exertion allowed us to plaster, chisel around, and carve out Britney’s body. And also gnaw several meters down in a second hole next to the first. And then tear down the wall between them.

After digging a second hole, the next task was to tear down the wall between them. Photo by Erik Tunstad.

The achievement deserved a group picture – and some hot freeze-dry food in the mess tent sometime early Monday morning.

Some hours of sleep now – and then we’ll look for the answer: Is there a head inside that hill?

After twelve hours of digging, a group portrait was necessary to commemorate the achievement. Photo by Erik Tunstad.

Read More From the Expedition

Sea Monsters of the North: Day 6–Mountain vs. Chainsaw

Sea Monsters of the North: Day 8

Sea Monsters of the North: Day 8

Jørn Hurum — Wed, 15 Aug 2012 21:39:34 +0000

By Erik Tunstad

Move that mountain!

It sounds like a tall order, but the order Jørn served for breakfast Saturday morning was not far from it.

—

Jørn Hurum, the Man Without a Head. Photo by Erik Tunstad.

The title of Jørn’s autobiography – if it is ever written – should be “Eight Years Without a Head.” As long as he has worked up here, digging out one plesiosaur after the other, he still hasn’t found a skull belonging to the creature. Of course it is frustrating.

But now we have a last chance, and it is called Britney. This specimen has been talked a lot about in the previous blogs – lying on its belly in the mud, with 46 neck vertebrae going into the permafrost. We have released 16 of them. The question is what is at the thin end?

To get the answer we have to move the mountainside around the hole, a further two to three meters – measured horizontally into the side of the mountain.

So: The main task for the few remaining days is to follow Britney. And what a hole we’ll create in the process!

Jørn is right. The crater we have to carve out, mainly by hand, will have an end wall of four or five meters or more. It will be one of our biggest ever.

Far from being daunted by the colossal digging project, the team is energized and fighting over the chance to get in the hole and dig. Photo by Erik Tunstad.

Once again are demonstrated the fantastic dynamics in the group. You would have thought the prospect of moving tons of waterlogged permafrost – hack it up and haul it out, push and pull it over the crater wall – hour after hour after hour – with muscles hurt, backs screaming – in fog, wind and occasionally sun – you would have thought the prospect would make people sneak out the back door. Especially since all of the dirt has to be moved twice – first out, then in again.

But no. People are almost fighting over who gets to go into the hole. They are in a queue along the edge. Throwing themselves over the heaps of mud like you wouldn’t believe. This mountain is going down! And it’s going down NOW.

After a couple of hours, we start seeing the results.

Before we quit for the night around one o’clock, we are well on our way to the layer of rock that will give us the answer to the Big Mystery of the Head. Sunday will be an exciting day.

Addendum

Throughout the expedition, from high on the mountain, you can see the entire camp below. Everything the roughly one dozen team members need to survive and complete their work, spread out in full view. It’s particularly interesting to compare with the following time-lapse video the team sent just before departing, which shows them loading all their gear into one shipping container that would accompany them to this island at the top of the world.

From high on the mountain, you can see the entire camp below. It's amazing to think that almost all of it fit into one shipping container. Photo by Erik Tunstad.

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Sea Monsters of the North: Day 6–Mountain vs. Chainsaw

Sea Monsters of the North: Day 7

Jørn Hurum — Wed, 15 Aug 2012 03:37:52 +0000

By Erik Tunstad

From bad to worse.

Thursday night was mud hell in Britney the Plesiosaur’s dig site. In the course of the day today – Friday – hell has expanded to include the whole area.

Even the mess tent.

The girls got to know it first, when they sledged down from Britney on Thursday night; Even in the toughest outfit, you can get wet to the skin.

The elderly among us, put it down to youthful mindlessness.

Now we all suffer.

Between fog, freeze, and mud, in the course of the day, hell expanded to include the whole area. Photo by Erik Tunstad.

For years, I have dreamed about building my own indoor rain forest in the garden. Now I have found a cheap solution. The inside of the storage tent looks like a scene from the Amazon – except that the lianas are exchanged for steaming wet or dripping supposedly waterproof outfits, labeled Øglegraverne 2010.

The steaming wet and dripping supposedly waterproof outfits hang like Amazon vines inside the tent. Photo by Erik Tunstad.

The air humidity is also much the same. Which leaves the detail of temperature.

You can say the same about the neighboring tent, the mess tent, where I now sit – early Saturday morning – rewriting yesterday’s sketches. I spend more time drying off condensation than writing. It’s dripping – no; pouring – from the ceiling. The clothes stick to the skin. It’s cold, nasty and wet, wet, wet.

So, if Britney was “dirty” yesterday – today she was worse (and I’m now back on Friday again). It was hard to stand upright, the perma-mud was slippery, the boots were turned into clumps of concrete – which turned our gait into some kind of trendy walking.

The expedition, on the other hand, is more vital than ever. A little mud doesn’t break us down, and we are now, mentally, in some sort of pre-sprint condition. Jørn has control of the situation. We already have claimed enough prizes to justify the whole trip. On top of that, we have opened a series of new finds, evaluated them, and found them to be wanting. There is just not enough time. We already have Britney, the plesiosaur far west up on the mountainside, the grand hope for a skull.

Oyvind points out the vertebrae in Britney′s neck heading into the permafrost. Photo by Erik Tunstad.

We also have Bunny, the plesiosaur I started on – on Sunday? And we have have Black Beauty, the ichthyosaur Victoria and Aubrey have entertained and sung about for the past few days. This is the specimen I sort of presented as a disappointment. But in this line of work, anything can change. The girls uncovered a beautiful backbone – and the big job of the evening was to transform the three meter long animal to three stone blocks encapsulated in plaster for easier and safer helicopter transport to bring it back to the lab for final cleaning.

After a week of climbing, digging, and plastering, reaching into tiny places to finish a plastering job can be exhausting. Photo by Erik Tunstad.

A job like this needs manpower, and most of the team spent the evening with Black Beauty digging, plastering, sawing, hauling, lifting and last but not least digging some more. When we were done a little past midnight, you needed a trained eye to see where the mud people had practiced their strange rituals, just a few hours earlier.

Now it was just a beautiful, tidy, and freshly raked mountainside – with three white plaster lumps, each a few hundred kilos a piece: helicopter food.

Despite all that's already been found, and the short time left for excavation, everywhere you look up here there is something worthy of note. Photo by Erik Tunstad.

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Sea Monsters of the North: Day 6–Mountain vs. Chainsaw

Sea Monsters of the North: Day 6–Mountain vs. Chainsaw

Jørn Hurum — Mon, 13 Aug 2012 22:16:32 +0000

By Erik Tunstad

To us, Svalbard has a year zero. We call it Dorsoplanites, an easily recognizable layer in the rocks dating from the upper Jurassic. Relative to this layer you can date and place everything else. A find is located ten meters under Dorsoplanites for example, or another is five meters above.

Dorsoplanites’ distinguishing characteristics are probably the result of some storm, or rather a series of storms, much much stronger than anything we know today, that occurred 145 million years ago. They killed both the sea-floor-dwelling animals which in this case appear to be mostly buchia-molluscs, and the open-ocean-swimming life forms, mainly squid and ammonites–spiral shaped, fossilized motor snakes. Stig found an exceptionally nice one yesterday.

Ammonites–spiral shaped, fossilized motor snakes–are some of the most common fossils found in these layers. Photo by Erik Tunstad.

A larger rock slab reveals just how numerous the ammonites are, and how many of them must have died in the storms that deposited these rock layers. Photo by Erik Tunstad.

The Jurassic was generally warmer than today, Pat explains, and the storms probably a lot more common, and much more violent.

As we look at the Jurassic, below Dorsoplanites, as a rule of thumb we can say that a centimeter of deposits correspond to 5000 years, Jørn says. It must have been quite a calm period, where lots of the same happened, millennia after millennia.

“With that rate, two meters represent one million years,” he adds. “When we know that the entire span of existence for a species is someplace between one and two million years, it means that this is an amazing opportunity to study how these animals changed through time.”

Above the Dorsoplanites layer, into the Cretaceous rocks, the rate varies more. At times it seems like nothing’s deposited at all, in other layers a lot has been deposited over a short period of time. In other words, it was a very unstable environment.

—

Five meters above Dorsoplanites, a little into the Cretaceous that is, lies the long necked plesiosaur that Julie and Oyvind have been working on the last couple of days. The dig site is more or less pure mud, and the specimen has already got the nickname Britney – presumably because of the song “Dirty Girl.”

She’s laying butt out, with her neck disappearing into the mountain. There could be a skull here somewhere – a real treasure. The Spitsbergen Jurassic Research Group has found many plesiosaurs, but so far, no skulls.

“Why?” Jørn thinks aloud. “The plesiosaurs had big and heavy bodies, a long thin neck and a relatively small head at the end of this. When they died, they would have hit bottom with the heavy body first – and with great force. The head would be lying higher up than the rest, more exposed to scavengers and erosion. Could that be the reason why we never find them?”

But Britney has potential. At least the head hasn’t been destroyed by the last years of rain and wind. What we have of the rest of the specimen is now covered in plaster. But the neck can be up to three meters long, and it disappears under a massive block of permafrost. All that dirt has to go, before we get the answer.

With the main body of the animal protected by plaster in the foreground, steps in the rock and dirt reveal the direction in which its neck extends into the mountainside. Photo by Erik Tunstad.

Julie, Oyvind, Stig and yours truly drag the necessary equipment up. Oyvind carries the chainsaw.

Chainsaw in rock and permafrost: the stone bursts into a million pieces all over the place, the frost and the mud give it the consistency of caramel – or frozen nougat, but even harder.

It will be a long haul. Stone splinters fly, the motor roars and smokes from the cutting edge. Oyvind uses all his muscle power to push the blade down, cutting as deeply as possible. A few minutes pass, then the machine has to be stopped and the chain has to be tightened. The mechanism is covered in sludge. The muck is scraped off, and it’s ready for another round. The motor starts reluctantly and the chain goes round slowly, but picks up speed after a while – and Oyvind is ready for yet another exertion.

As Oyvind cuts into the permafrost with the chainsaw stone splinters fly and the motor roars and smokes from the cutting edge. Photo by Erik Tunstad.

The clock is getting close to eleven p.m., and the machine stops yet again. Out come the screwdrivers—but they’re no use—there’s no more chain to tighten. It is all used up.

It’s a bit of a pain, because there are a few hundred kilos of permafrost left to remove before we have dug out enough to continue detailed excavating tomorrow. We are starting to get tired now. We are wading in caramel sludge and it is clotting under our boot soles, making our feet weigh 20 kilos a piece. It is cold, our muscles buzz and our bodies ache.

The next weapons are chisels; meter-long metal chisels. And pickaxes. And raw muscle power.

The next weapons are chisels; meter-long metal chisels. And pickaxes. And raw muscle power. Photo by Erik Tunstad.

An hour later the rest of the team members come climbing up from their own quarries.

“This is our last and only chance, ever, to find the head of a plesiosaur,” Jørn says. Tomorrow could be really exciting. This day is over. (Even though the girls just have to have a sledging competition on the way to the mess tent.)

While Oyvind struggles in an epic battle with the Earth itself, team leader Jørn and the others look on gleefully empty-handed. Photo by Erik Tunstad..

Dinner is served after midnight. It’s a tired gang sitting around the fire place. I put on some relaxing music–Iron and Wine. Not even Jørn is nagging for heavy rock.

About half past one, most of us creep into our sleeping bags. But I can hear deep male voices from the mess tent as I drift into unconsciousness. Stig and Oyvind, I presume…

Read More From the Expedition

Sea Monsters of the North: Day 5

Jørn Hurum — Sun, 12 Aug 2012 04:16:18 +0000

By Erik Tunstad

You get the urge to just walk and walk and walk. The sun’s baking in the mountain side, not a breath of wind, and the air is so clear that you can see the glacier fronts across the fjord. The arctic summer at its most magnificent. Pat and Jørn know there is at least one plesiosaur down there somewhere- “But there must be more,” says Pat, “it can’t possibly be more than a stone’s throw between the fossils.”

The air is so clear that you can see the glacier fronts across the fjord. The arctic summer at its most magnificent. Photo by Erik Tunstad.

The spot is like one from a text book, Jørn says when we’re down. A collection of clear, white bones –and more flowing out evenly down the slope like a fan.

At first, most of us would probably take them for white rocks, but with a closer look anyone would recognize them as fossilized bones. Photo by Erik Tunstad.

At first, most of us would probably take them for white rocks, but with a closer look anyone would recognize them as fossilized bones. Jørn discovered some of them a couple of days ago, and following the trail of bones, he soon found the source. Under and in the mountain lies the remains of a prehistoric monster–an animal that lived and died here a hundred and fifty million years ago.

The spongey structure of bone makes the bright white rocks instantly recognizable as fossils. Photo by Erik Tunstad.

We start looking around, for details in the gravel. Soon Stig has noticed something–another stream of white bone fragments. We have another dig spot. Pat picks up a rock and throws it. He was right; it wasn’t more than a stone’s throw away.

Volunteer Stig Larsen smiles as he examines a fossil from another new site, just a stone's throw from the last one. Photo by Erik Tunstad.

The arctic summer is changeable, and when I check the find a day later, the polar fog is covering the mountain side. You cannot see further than ten meters. I feel safest with the shotgun over my shoulder. It’s been no more than a year since the polar bear attack on a British camp on the other side of the fjord, where a teenager lost his life.

Everything is grey and slightly dark. I am surrounded by unclear shapes, rocks, and mounds. Every little crack could be sheltering a hungry predator. Would I see it in time?

The slightly scary atmosphere evaporates with the sound of womanly song: “Your mouth is filled with razor teeth/Your eyes are green from lust for meat /Ichthyosaur, Ichthyosaur …”

Aubrey, Victoria–and Lena with her Magnum 44—pause their singing for a moment to show me how Jørn’s beautiful bones can’t quite fulfill expectations: there’s just dust, clay, and ribs. Not much to celebrate after 24 hours of hard work.

“I’m too sexy for this hole,” Aubrey and Victoria sing with big smiles on their faces. I find it necessary to check how the guys are doing on the other side of the mountain slope.

We break camp in a week.

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Sea Monsters of the North: Day 4

Jørn Hurum — Fri, 10 Aug 2012 21:20:41 +0000

By Erik Tunstad

Stig, Pat, and Jørn are clinging to the stone block.

Within it, under layers of plaster and supported by iron, lies the head of a huge ichthyosaur. It’s the specimen Tommy found right after we arrived last Saturday. The plaster was applied yesterday.

Then we let ourselves loose on the mountain side, armed with pick axes, shovels and a chain saw. After we’ve created some work space, the beast will be released!

The men apply wet plaster and burlap on the sides and as far under the block as they’ve dared to dig. Photo by Erik Tunstad.

The men are applying wet plaster and burlap on the sides and as far under the block as they’ve dared to dig. There is a risk that the brittle rock with a consistency of a heap of shingle will fall out and with it, the valuable fossils.

Everything has to be glued and stabilized.

After ten minutes of intense, the plaster has dried and the men can stretch sore backs for a couple of minutes, before we’re ready for the next layer. And the next. And the next.

After ten minutes of intense, the plaster has dried and the men can stretch sore backs for a couple of minutes, before we’re ready for the next layer. And the next. And the next. Photo by Erik Tunstad.

After a couple of hours we start the work of getting the chisels through the rock under the plaster mushroom. The chisels glide through easier than we thought, and after a while we have a well stabilized fossil.

After a bit of work with the pickaxes and chainsaws, the beast will be released! Photo by Erik Tunstad.

We are ready for the final lift.

“We have never really messed up,” says Jorn. With emphasis on the word really. He’s saying this with 31 successfully excavated skeletons through eight years of experience – and knows there’s a real chance that the bones may fall out.

The moment is closing in. The reinforcements are in place, in the form of our teammates from the surrounding mountain sides. We are about to turn over the several-hundred-kilo plaster jacket, and it has to happen in a quick and smooth movement – without unnecessary twisting and pushing. Jørn and Tommy will lift it, the others will pull.

Everyone lends a hand to pull the plastered fossil out by force. Photo by Erik Tunstad.

With a heave on the rope and a push from below, the plastered fossil-block is flipped free from the Earth. Photo by Erik Tunstad.

As the block becomes free, the tension gives way and the heavers collapse at the other end of the rope. Photo by Erik Tunstad.

Then, with a “one-two-three” and a minor exertion, the job is done.

Or, at least almost. To reduce weight and volume we’ll have to dig down to the bone from underneath.

And then, almost finally, the least inspiring job: filling-in the hole. Every gram of earth and stone we have dug out has to be put back.

“When we are finished, only a geologist can see that we were here,” Jørn boasts.

Near the end, the least inspiring job: filling-in the hole. Every gram of earth and stone we have dug out besides the plastered fossil has to be put back. Photo by Erik Tunstad.

Finally, the whole thing has to be dragged down to the camp.

There’s enough to do here.

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Sea Monsters of the North: Day 3

Jørn Hurum — Thu, 09 Aug 2012 20:45:53 +0000

By Erik Tunstad

Its eight o’clock, lunch is over. Fair enough, considering that I woke up at eight. Twelve hours ago.

The rest of the team members are on their way up to their mountain quarries once more. I can see five of them from where I am sitting: five dark heaps of dirt against the gray shale, and the outline of holes in the mountain behind.

The rest of the team members are on their way up to their mountain quarries once more. Photo courtesy Erik Tunstad.

Victoria and Lena are about to creep down into their hole. The plesiosaur is still promising, but no more.

Tommy has got Stig and Bjorn with him, so over there things are about to happen. Their fossil was covered with the first layers of plaster earlier today. Now they have brought a chain saw.

Pat and Jørn have just started plastering their “praying ichthyosaur”. They have a further walk, past Krzysztof’s log and to the left.

Pat and Jørn get some help plastering their “praying ichthyosaur” fossil. Photo courtesy Erik Tunstad.

Even further up in the same direction I can see the reason for our delayed lunch, the three newcomers, Aubrey, Julie, and Oyvind. They have already opened their own quarry all the way up the hillside. A plesiosaur. It was discovered during yesterday’s search.

I can hear the chain saw now. Stig and Bjorn are in full action. There is shale everywhere, and soon the lump of plaster has the shape of an altar.

Chainsaws help clear the rock surrounding the fossil, which takes on the appearance of an altar. Photo courtesy Erik Tunstad.

According to Jørn, we are way ahead of schedule. Plastering is usually something the group is hurrying to get done in the last days, and we are only on day three. Good!

I will probably start on my way up the hill soon too.

…

I’m on the other side now. I could have done some interesting work down here too. When we arrived on Friday and found this spot, one of the more or less flat areas, we had to clear away lots of pebbles and rocks.

Jørn soon discovered that it wasn’t rocks, but bone fragments, the remains of a kind of plesiosaur, called a pliosaur. One of the biggest and most ferocious predators of them all. We are camping on one!

The rest of the body is probably up the hill somewhere. Jørn keeps looking.

So far all the bones have been gathered in our small museum, and are shown to the tourists as they keep coming in from Longyearbyen, the nearest major permanent human habitation.

This year's bones on display on a rock, with plastic models of the animals from which they came. Photo courtesy Erik Tunstad.

Well, I better go up and watch the plaster massacre up there. It could be a nice and long haul. And the weather forecast predicts sun after midnight, Victoria says.

Or after dinner, as we say around here.

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Sea Monsters of the North: Day 2

Jørn Hurum — Wed, 08 Aug 2012 03:25:03 +0000

By Erik Tunstad

It’s a bit nerve wrecking to be excavating marine reptile fossils for the first time. It is after all the real thing, what museums are based on. Not like the rocks I used to fill the kitchen cupboards with as a kid…. Always a source of great frustration for my mum. Cambrosilurian bryozoes and trilobites, much older than Svalbards reptiles.

But a lot less valuable, I hope. They had this strange ability to disappear in thin air.

What I am digging out now, on the other hand, is to be preserved for all time. Maybe even a whole skeleton, or at least contribute to scientific work? Or at the very least, equipped with a catalogue number.

I feel humble when I bend down on my knees next to Victoria, and start examining the black muck of moist shale and permafrost. Some place down there, there could be a bone from the plesiosaur she and Lena has already spent a day looking for.

But which of the 340 000 tiny fragments, more or less stuck together and of the same color are we looking for?

This is Victoria’s first time on the expedition as well, though she has already got a summer of experience preparing at the Paleontological Museum in Oslo. She is looking for organic shapes. Color nuances. Differences in hardness.

Feel it in your fingers. If it breaks, its shale.

She has already uncovered about ten small bones. They are unsystematically spread over an area of half a square meter, which doesn’t look promising.

Victoria She has already uncovered about ten small bones. They are unsystematically spread over an area of half a square meter, which doesn’t look promising. Photo courtesy Jørn Hurum.

This animal was probably dead some time before it was buried. Teared apart and moved around.

Jørn is here, inspecting. He says we should continue digging a bit more, and if we don’t find more, we will wrap the bones in tin foil and bring them with us.

A bit nervous, as I mentioned earlier. My knees on a sitting mat, bum in the air and equipped with a spoon. Gently scraping the surface, carefully removing the mud. A millimeter at a time.

After a couple of hours I realize that Victoria has placed the newbie in a safe area, with minimal risks of doing anything wrong. But I am happy. Starting to get the grip of it. Still, a bone would be nice.

…

Stomachs start making noises around the hillside, and slowly several reptile diggers descend in muddy, full-body digging suits towards the food tent down in the camp. The sight brings me to think of kindergarten.

But still, the break passes without crying or fighting with food, and a short hour later we are all back in our quarries.

It is closer than fifty meters between them. In one, Tommy is continuing on the skull he found yesterday. Higher up and to the left, Krzystof is brushing on a fossilized log. Beneath us, Jørn and Pat have made an exciting discovery. A series of ribs are protruding from the hillside. There can be more further in …

Jørn and Pat have made an exciting discovery. A series of ribs are protruding from the hillside. Photo courtesy Jørn Hurum.

And there you are, like birds on a steep cliff. Shouting news to each other. Walking over to the neighbors to see how they are doing. Or having a break, with a can of Coke and a view to satisfy a busload of tourists.

Sometimes you pause and realize there you are, like birds on a cliff, with a view to satisfy a busload of tourists. Photo courtesy Jørn Hurum.

Certainly not bad, but as mentioned earlier, a bone wouldn’t be bad either.

Several hours pass before I notice something. A slightly different sound, something a bit harder … the neck vertebrae of a plesiosaur. Amazing! Nothing to write home about, not compared to what the others have found. But still …

Victoria hits the same long neck about the same time as I do, and not long after we have uncovered a series of beautiful bones on their way out of the permafrost. Where is the head? Still in the bedrock? Under Victoria’s knees? Or gone forever?

Promising, Jørn says, very promising.

His own discovery, the ribs of an ichthyosaur, ended up being only that: ribs, meaningless to collect. That’s another disappointment, together with the ichthyosaur from yesterday which turned into bone meal when we touched it.

The more experienced among us starts examining the hillside once more. We have lost some promising projects, and need new possibilities.

They walk systematically back and forth, back and forth. Follow the slope a hundred meters east, then one to two meters down, the opposite direction. And then back again, and again and again. All the way back to the camp. Experienced eyes that see bones where others see mud.

We have uncovered more specimens here in a few hours, than the rest of the world will produce the next couple of years. Photo courtesy Jørn Hurum.

A couple of hours later we have got two new plesiosaurs and one new ichthyosaur. There is no other place in the world where you can find these fossils so close to each other and so quickly, Jørn claims.

We have uncovered more specimens here in a few hours, than the rest of the world will produce the next couple of years, Pat says.

The ichthyosaur is even lying with its flippers crossed over its chest. Can this be the remains of the world’s first religious ichthyosaur?, he wonders.

Or one of the great Jurassic killers? Till now we can only see flippers and shoulders. Where is the rest?

More to come!

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