What many might imagine as the stuff of summer postcards – majestic fjords, drifting icebergs, and endless northern lights – was, for the GreenFjord science team, the setting for some serious fieldwork. In summer 2025, the researchers embarked for a second season aboard Switzerland’s research vessel Forel (Forel Heritage Project) following the ship’s scientific “christening” during the GreenFjord 2024 campaign (GreenFjord Project).
The team’s base of operations, the fjords surrounding Narsaq in southern Greenland, could easily pass for a dream destination – if one overlooks the long hours of sampling and instrument maintenance. Yet, even under grey skies or persistent drizzle, the setting remains breathtaking: Towering mountains and calving glaciers meet the ocean, sending a steady procession of ice sculptures past the ship. With little tourism and warm exchanges with local residents, the experience offers both scientific depth and a reminder of why fieldwork, at its best, feeds the mind and the soul alike.
All in for the last field season of GreenFjord
Because life aboard a research vessel is anything but leisurely. Time is precious, the schedule relentless, and the data – always just one more sample away. For the GreenFjord team, the summer of 2025 marked the final field season of the project, and with it, the determination to squeeze every last bit of insight from Greenland’s dynamic fjord systems.
GreenFjord – short for Greenland fjord ecosystems in a changing climate: socio-cultural and environmental interactions – is an SPI Flagship Initiative project running from 2022 to 2026. The project brings together six research clusters: ‘ocean’, ‘cryosphere’, ‘land’, ‘biodiversity’, ‘atmosphere’, and ‘human’. This summer’s expedition united Amelia and Sylvie from the ocean cluster, Meret from biodiversity, Laine and Lea from the human cluster, and Roman and Julia from the atmosphere team, alongside the ever-resourceful Forel crew.
Over three intense weeks, the group examined the intricate web of ocean-ice-biosphere-atmosphere-human interactions that define the southern Greenland fjord region. Each cluster pursued its own disciplinary questions, but the magic – and the challenge – lay in the intersections: plankton blooms influenced by glacial meltwater, aerosol particles linking ocean biology to atmospheric processes, and the human dimension that ties scientific observation to lived experience. The result? A collaborative symphony of science, played out against one of the most stunning backdrops on Earth.
Ocean
Our two oceanographers were busy – very busy. The day often began with the CTD (conductivity, temperature, depth) probe being carefully lowered into the fjord to capture vertical profiles of the water column. Along with temperature and salinity, it revealed a fluorescence signal hinting at where phytoplankton thrived near the surface – a small green clue in a blue world.
Next came the rosette, dipped gracefully into the icy water to collect samples from different depths. These precious litres of fjord water would later reveal stories of water mass movements, nutrient dispersal, and trace metal distributions – the fingerprints of a changing marine system.
And then, the real magic began – behind closed doors. Amelia and Sylvie would vanish into the clean lab, fully suited in white protective coats, sealing themselves in a world of quiet precision. No outsiders allowed. Hours passed in near silence as they processed and preserved the delicate samples, ensuring that not a single speck of contamination would compromise the results.
From time to time, Amelia would reappear to filter the remaining water, capturing tiny particulates for later analysis back in the lab. Meanwhile, our fridges and freezers filled steadily with neatly labelled bottles and filters – each one a small piece of the fjord’s story. As storage space dwindled, the team took the hint: eat the fresh fruit, finish the frozen fish – science needed the freezer more than we did.
© 2025 Julia Schmale, all rights reserved
Biodiversity
Life in the fjords is abundant – from microscopic drifters to fish large enough to end up on a dinner plate. Yet much of it remains hidden, especially those thriving hundreds of metres below the surface, where light fades and pressure rises. How do we explore life we cannot see? Meret had the answer.
Armed with a deep-water pump, she drew samples directly from the fjord depths to perform environmental DNA (eDNA) analyses – extracting traces of genetic material left behind by organisms to reveal who lives down there, unseen. This is, as we like to say, the dark side of her research.
The bright side unfolded at the surface, where Meret deployed fine-meshed nets to collect plankton, the drifting foundation of the marine food web. Back on deck, these samples were processed with the Planktoscope, an ingenious imaging device that captures intricate portraits of these tiny beings, sorting them into taxonomic groups with stunning precision.
And then there are the jellyfish – not a central research question, but Meret’s undeniable passion. Whether after ten hours of work or in the middle of relentless Greenlandic rain, she couldn’t resist examining their delicate forms under the microscope. Her enthusiasm was contagious: Within days, the entire ship turned into a floating society of jellyfish admirers.
© 2025 Julia Schmale, all rights reserved
Atmosphere
While some instruments dive deep beneath the waves, Roman and Julia prefer to reach for the sky – literally. Their scientific companion is a tethered balloon, the helikite, which carries a suite of sensors high above the fjord. We call it sunshine science, because the balloon operators shy away from flying in rain or strong wind.
At a graceful crawl, Forel glided through the fjords, weaving elegantly between icebergs, bow steady into the wind. From the stern, the helikite was rising and falling, quietly tracing the vertical motion of particles that connect the ocean surface to the clouds above. Each ascent revealed how aerosols and turbulence shape the interface between water and atmosphere – an invisible choreography essential to understanding Arctic climate processes.
The best part? Once launched, the helikite operates almost on its own – a click on the computer, and the instruments take over, leaving enough time for the scientists to enjoy coffee and conversation (while keeping a close eye on the wind).
Meanwhile, tucked away at the ship’s bow, the ship-based sensors were humming along, capturing the subtle chemistry of the near-surface air. These data illuminate how new aerosol particles form, and how biological material is emitted from the sea to become part of the Arctic atmosphere – a reminder that even the quietest corners of the ship were buzzing with invisible activity.
Human
There was a quiet rivalry aboard Forel – a coffee rivalry, to be precise. While the atmosphere team sipped theirs on deck, eyes fixed on the balloon, Lea and Laine enjoyed theirs in the mess hal – with company and cookies, so they clearly won. Over steaming mugs, they engaged in deep conversations with the Greenlanders from Narsaq who accompanied us on the voyage, sharing their lived experiences of a rapidly changing climate.
Armed with hundreds of picture cards featuring Greenlandic words for local foods and traditions – many unknown to the natural scientists among us – they sparked discussions about hunting, diet, and cultural adaptation. The cards soon turned into an impromptu language lesson and a bridge between worlds.
Our cultural immersion deepened a week later on land, as we gathered in a kitchen to cook and shared whale soup, laughter and curiosity blending as naturally as the ingredients in the pot. On another day, standing together on deck beneath the Arctic sun, we marvelled at the fjords while one of our Greenlandic companions, binoculars in hand, spotted seal after seal gliding past. We asked, astonished, whether that day was somehow special, since our count stopped at two after two weeks. He gave us a puzzled look, shrugged, and said simply: “No – just a normal day.” It was a gentle reminder that, in the Arctic, perspective is everything.
Life on Board
With so much science underway – and the occasional day spent entirely in the rain – food and fellowship became vital elements of shipboard life. Fortunately, our French cook ensured that every meal was a small celebration, transforming even the simplest ingredients into moments of collective joy. Evenings often dissolved into laughter over card games, while the bravest among us plunged into the icy fjord for a “refreshing” swim (once is usually enough to earn bragging rights).
When weather and schedule allow, we stepped ashore – stretching our legs, picking blueberries that later reappear as a delicious cake, or playing an impromptu football match. A 28-metre sailboat may sound spacious, but after weeks aboard, you realise just how few steps it takes to walk from bow to stern.
Drones were buzzing above us, capturing the surreal mix of glaciers, icebergs, and laughter echoing across the fjord – three sometimes aloft at once circling the Forel. Yet beyond the data and devices, the most remarkable thing was the camaraderie: crew and scientists not merely getting along but thriving together, united by curiosity, humour, and a shared sense of adventure.
Reflections
As the Forel glided back toward Narsaq and the midnight sun dipped lower behind the mountains, we looked back on this journey: a convergence of disciplines, people, and purpose. Each cluster – whether plumbing the depths, tracing the clouds, or listening to human stories – added its own colour to a shared canvas of discovery. The GreenFjord project is, at its heart, about connection: between ocean and cloud, science and society, and between those who seek to understand and those who live the change every day. What may have begun as a science project will long be remembered as a voyage of collaboration and curiosity, echoing far beyond the fjords that first inspired it.
Julia Schmale is Tenure Track Assistant Professor at the Extreme Environments Research Laboratory – Ingvar Kamprad Chair at the EPFL Valais Wallis In Switzerland. As Principal Investigator, she leads the GreenFjord Project, one of the SPI Flagship Initiatives. Her fieldtrip took place in summer 2025 with additional financial support from an SPI Forel Grant.
