Climate change is unsettling Svalbard
LIFE in Longyearbyen, the worlds northernmost town, can be harsh. Average high temperatures in July top out at 8C; for three and a half months in the winter, the sun does not rise at all. Polar bears roam freely, meaning that anyone leaving the settlement of just over 2,000 people must carry a rifle. The mountainsides are bare but for a couple of shacks marking the entrance to the coal mines that brought the town into existence. Medical services are limited, and specialist care must be sought on the Norwegian mainland. Indeed, few if any people are born, or die, on the island of Svalbard, but instead move from the mainland for a few years. Still, lower down in the valley, where a few scrappy blades of grass manage to grow, the colourful houses of todays Longyearbyen residents, engaged mostly in tourism, line the mountains lower slopes. Despite their cheery appearance, they are increasingly threatened by climate change. The biggest danger comes from the increased risk of landslides and avalanches, linked to climate change. One avalanche in December 2015 killed two and destroyed 11 houses; another, in February 2017, destroyed two buildings containing a total of six housing units. Svalbards local government reckons around 250 homes will eventually have to be torn down due to their location in risky areas. Through Statsbygg, a state property-management company, Norway is ploughing Nkr220m ($27m) into 60 new houses to replace those already destroyed, and some of those still standing but most at risk. The first of these, shipped in modules from the mainland, were installed in September. Climate change has made construction considerably trickier. Most of the towns edifices are built on wood piles frozen into the permafrost; now that it is melting ever deeper, these are at risk of rotting, and so becoming unstable. Statsbyggs new housing will consequently be put atop steel pilings driven deep through the permafrost to the underlying bedrock 10-15m beneaththe first residential buildings to be so constructed. The foundations will even come with sensors to monitor temperature and conditions. It is essential, says Hege Njaa Aschim of Statsbygg, to be aware of everything [since] we cannot trust the permafrost anymore. Other places in Svalbard are affected, too. The Svalbard Seed Vault was built in 2008 into the permafrost just outside Longyearbyen to store seeds of a huge variety of crops in case of catastrophe. The vault itself, deep inside the mountain, is still fine, but the access tunnel to it from the surface failed to refreeze in the permafrost as expected, leading it to be flooded with rain and meltwater in 2016. Now, Statsbygg is spending Nkr100m to replace it with a waterproof concrete one, and installing equipment around the tunnel to freeze the surrounding soil. So far, these problems have not stopped adventurers from arriving. There is a unique appeal to life in the remote archipelagofor outdoor enthusiasts, say, who can hop on a snowmobile to explore majestic glaciers. Locals swear by the camaraderie born of the harsh environment. (Even Longyearbyens fanciest hotels ask you to leave your shoes at the door, as if at home.) Most people plan to come for a season, but end up staying for years, says one local. Amid the melting glaciers and the destabilising mountain slopes, it remains to be seen if they can still do so in the future.