The sea ice in northern Labrador is thinning fast. Here's why the Inuit are worried

As raindrops pelteddown the night of March 3, it felt a bit like fallin Barry Andersen's homeof Makkovik.

"You wouldn't know it [wasn't]October with the rain storms we had on the go," Andersen said.

The unusual wet spell wasthe latest climate curveballin a winter full of them along Labrador's north coast, which is warming at a quicker pace than most places in the world and forcing changes in lifeas people in its communities know it.

During one standout storm at the end of January,tides and sea swells combined to batterand break the fragile ice about 100 metres from the town's harbour.

'Pure open water'

"It was all open water, and it was quite a sight to see that late in the winter,"said Andersen,the town's AngajukKakthe head of its Inuit community government. "Just pure, pure open water right from nearly to the dockon outto the MakkovikBay."

After its second warmest December on record, Makkovik had its warmest January ever this year,with an average temperature of8.2 C, more than 10 degrees above normalfor the month. Then, February experiencedanother record.

And Makkovik, which isabout 200kilometres northeast of Happy Valley-Goose Bay,isn't alone. Across Labrador, weather stations rackedup records, or cameclose, this winter.

WATCH | Nunatsiavut residents describe the tollthinning sea ice istaking on communities

Shrinking sea ice in northern Labrador

4 years ago

Duration 1:00

Nunatsiavut residents describe the thinning sea ice, and the toll it's taking in their communities

A fraction of its typicalthickness

The sea ice has now set in along the coast, but isa shadow of its normal self. North of Makkovik Bay, Andersen said, the ice is only about 15 centimetresthickin an area wheretypically it wouldbeabout a metre.

The late and meagre ice this year has been the talk of Makkovikandthe four othercommunities that comprise Nunatsiavut, the self-governing territory of Labrador's Inuit along with the Innu village of Natuashish, which lies on the north coast between Nain and Hopdale.

No roads connect the communities to each other or to the outside world. Ferry services end in the falland air travel can take a backseat to weather conditions.In thewinter, snowmobilesand the sea ice that bears them,are essential.

'The ice is our highway'

"The ice is our highway, and when that gets disrupted, so does life on the north coast," said Andersen.

Trails on the ice connectcommunitiesand allow people to collect wood to heat their homesand to hunt forfood.

Icealso providesa bridge to the intangible.

"It refreshes you. It reminds you of who you are, where you came from, and stuff like that,"said Charlotte Wolfrey, the AngajukKak of Rigolet, Nunatsiavut's southernmost community. "When we can't get out, it's a big deal."

As the ice thins, its dangers keep people closer to home,which meansmore people have to rely on store-bought foods.

'People are coming back with nothing'

"Because everybody is hunting in the same areas, because they can't get where they want to getbecause of lack of sea icea lot of people are coming back with nothing," said Joey Angnatok, a fisherman and hunter in Nain, the northernmost community of Nunatsiavut.

Angnatokis a repository for local knowledge, as well as the evolving science around it. In2014, he was honoured with a national award for his research work, which included turning his fishing boat, What's Happening, into a marine vessel.

"I was told many years ago that there's changes happening," said Angnatok. "But I never, ever dreamt that it would be happening as fast as it is."

A window to the future

The experiences and statistics emerging from the 2020-21 ice season are startling.But they arealso foreshadowing, according to the co-author of a recent study about climate change in Nunatsiavut and Nunavik.

"A year like this gives us a bit of a window into potentially the types of conditions that we will see on average, say, 30 years down the road," said Robert Way, a professor of geography at Queen's University in Kingston, Ont., who specializes in climate change in Labrador.

Way, who is of Labrador Inuit descent and has been backin his hometown of Happy Valley-Goose Bay during the pandemic,called this a"really weird winter." He recalledwater flowing off his roof during a 5 C day in March. It should've been about 15 degrees colder, he said.

'Changing pretty dramatically'

Way's studycompiles thewide-ranging effects of climate changein Nunatsiavut including almost 40 fewer days of snow on the ground since the late 1950sand the sea ice "changing pretty dramatically." In fact, northern Nunatsiavut is losing its ice coverage faster than anywhere in the Canadian Arctic.

This year's temperature surge trackswith how Labrador climate change is unfoldingin what can feel like fits and starts, Way said. Thanks to factors like the North Atlantic Ocean, there's always been variability in the region that makes some years milder than others.But as climate change prompts continual climbing temperatures, the natural swings are amplified, resulting inextreme years like this one.

Complicating mattersfurther, Way said, is an institutional lack of climate data across the eastern Canadian Arctic and subarctic regions. What is in place is often insufficient, he said. For example, Environment Canadaonly measures snowfallin two places in Labrador with one of them, in Nain, offline this winter due to technical bugs.

This is a problem, because knowing how much snow has fallen gives people a better idea of what's happening with the ice below it, said Way.And while theCanadian Ice Service providessophisticated modelling of the area for ships, itrarely takes samples to document ice thickness.

Adapting and evolving

As changes and challenges mount, people along Labrador's coast are taking action.

Inuit Tapiriit Kanatami, the national group representing Inuit released aclimate change strategy in 2019 andthe Nunatsiavut government has its owninitiatives, includinga large solar project inMakkovik.

One globally lauded sea ice adaptation was sparked after the winter of 2010, whenthin ice caused a host of problems in Nunatsiavut.That year,onein 12 people surveyed in Nain fellthrough the ice.

That led to SmartICE, a social enterprise thatmarries traditional knowledge with technological innovation to help people plan safer routes over the ice, in part via devices they call SmartBuoys. Ithas spread from two pilot project sitesto about two dozenacross the Arctic.

Makkovik was set to join that program this winter, but the plan to deploy a SmartBuoy for the communitywent awry.

"We couldn't get it out due to the ice conditions, which is sort of ironic," said Andersen. "It's sitting here on the ground."

Way has led a team to install weather stations in six Labrador communities, with plans for a seventh. Each station is designed to have the data publicly available in real time, sopeople can plan their days and track changes.So far, Environment Canada and other agencies havenotincluded data fromthose stations in their forecasts, he said.

Changescoming quicker now

"We're going to have to adapt to the changing conditions," said Andersen. "I know that we've been able to adapt in the past, but I think that the changes are coming a bit quicker now,in the last 20 years."

One certainty is that changes will keep coming: one United Nations study showsthe Arctic is locked into a three- to five-degree warming scenario regardless of any mitigation measures for global greenhouse gas emissions.

Way said that holds true for Labrador.By mid-century, even if the world manages to meet international climate change targets, this year's winter weather could be average for Labrador.

"If things don't go well with mitigation, then things might be not heading in a good direction," he said."We might be closer to conditions we haven't really experienced very often. So it is a stark reality."

Wolfrey said herfears circle around how her grandchildren and great-grandchildren will cope with the alteredlandscape.

"All that we've learned can't be passed on, and it's gonna end with the next generation," she said.

"All those good things that kept us healthy and well, and kept us who we are, and kept us grounded, arenot going to be available, Idon'tthink, to our next generation."

Thin Ice is a special CBC series about the changing climate along Labrador's north coast, and the Indigenous-led responses arising from it. Read more in this series in the coming weeks.

Read more from CBC Newfoundland and Labrador