esperanza

Yesterday we witnessed two tug boats towing a big iceberg near the Stena Forth drilling ship. They do this to move them out of the way of their drilling operation. They call it "ice management". We call it "insanity". Last night we realised we had a chance to project messages onto this iceberg so we asked people on Twitter and Facebook to suggest new slogans for Cairn Energy. Within two hours we had 500 suggestions and picked two to go alongside the Cairn logo on the iceberg. "We just don't care"  suggested by Frank Plonka on Facebook and "Defining Stupid" suggested by Matthew Higginson.

Leila, climate campaigner on the Esperanza, writes from the Arctic... 

Last night around 1pm, my whole cabin was suddenly flooded with light and it was not the Aurora Borealis this time. It was the coastguard of Greenland, onboard 'Sisak 2'. They have been following us like a shadow, along with 'Sisak 4' and the Danish warship, since our arrival at Cairn Energy's drill sites. This time they had approached closely from port side with their bright spotlight directly pointing at us.

It is still summer in Greenland and when our ice captain came onboard in Nuuk (probably the smallest capital of the world)  there were even some local hardcores swimming  in the bay but today the temperature dropped down to 5 degrees and the humidity is very high. You don't need a PhD in geology to figure out that drilling operations in Arctic conditions are extremely dangerous. One look out of the Esperanza porthole is enough. We are surrounded by a thick fog most of the time and most of the icebergs passing by can only be spotted on the radar.

As images and video come in to the office from the Esperanza, the one thing that has amazed everyone is the lengths to which Cairn Energy will go (indeed, must go) to prevent icebergs colliding with its drilling operations. Iceberg Alley is so named for a reason, and there's some footage here of one method for dealing with them: hosing them away.

There's also a chance to see the Stena Don rig close up as well as the Stena Forth drilling ship, and get a sense of what it's like to be out in the Arctic seas near Greenland.

Sim, US activist, writes again from the Esperanza.

In the months following the explosion and subsequent sinking of BP’s Deepwater Horizon offshore drilling rig, I spent nearly three weeks in Louisiana’s Gulf coast bearing witness and assisting in documentation of the largest oil spill in US history. I stayed on Grand Isle, a vacation and fishing community that was described to me by its inhabitants as paradise. But it was far from a paradise during my stay - with clean-up crews in white protective suits working around the clock to protect their coastline from the devastating effects of the oil spill and toxic sludge visible on the beaches and marshes. I got a brief glimpse of a way of life that will be deeply changed forever in the aftermath of the oil spill.

We have officially arrived in the Arctic! After coming into Nuuk, Greenland, on Friday to pick up Arne, our ice pilot - we headed north and crossed the Arctic circle yesterday afternoon. I was incredibly excited about crossing the line as I have never done it before. Waldemar, our captain also hasn't been here. We stood together on the bridge yesterday and watched the GPS move slowly up from 66 degrees north. At the moment we crossed the line he jumped into the air and said "oh wow! Lisa! did you feel it?". Of course there's no geographical line in the ocean - no immediate change in the surroundings when you cross over. And just like a birthday when you suddenly get a year older - you don't feel any different but it's a special occasion and cause for celebration.

Anais takes a break from her chores on board to ponder about what's on the horizon and why we're here...

There are more and more visits by our distant relatives - the whales -as we journey onwards and they are a welcome distraction from our busy daily routine. It's one of the unspoken ship's rules to drop grease guns, chipping hammers and carpentry tools at any time, and get one personal minute of wonder holding onto the railing, viewing the spouts. Perhaps this mixed feeling of wishfulness and emotion is because we feel connected to these mammals who were drawn from the land to the ocean - just like us.

I also love these funny moments of confusion when formations of dark blue clouds appear close to the horizon. It makes me wink, rub my eyes and after a second look they appear not to be just mountain shaped clouds but actually land. Greenland this time.

Will Rose, the Esperanza's photographer, has been keeping himself busy documenting life on board the ship as well as some of the incredible sights the crew have already encountered on their journey north. They've seen whales, the Northern Lights and the Persaid meteor shower. Not that I'm jealous.

More of Will's photos will be appearing in the Esperanza Flickr set.