Extreme Science: Conducting Space Analogs in the Arctic Desert
In the summer of 2024, seven international researchers, engineers, academics and aerospace operators successfully conducted an expedition to the uninhabited Arctic island known as Tallurutit (Devon Island). Tallurutit is a desolate Polar Desert with a ~33 million-year-old impact crater, Haughton Crater. Studied for decades as an almost pristine arctic environment due to minimal human presence, researchers brave an isolated, unforgiving and harsh environment to gain insights into Earth’s geologic past, arctic environment, climate change impacts and human performance in isolated, confined and extreme environments. The Mars Society Arctic Expedition included Tiffany Swarmer, a KBR employee who supports NASA at Johnson Space Center. Below, she shares her experience as part of this historic Arctic expedition.
Isolated, desolate and unsupported are all words to describe Tallurutit (Devon Island), an uninhabited island in the Arctic. However, it is not so much the environment that makes this place as it is the range of human emotions experienced over a short period: awe, exhaustion, frustration, happiness and beautiful enlightenment. This extreme, isolated environment is more common to Saturation Divers and Moon Walkers. For our team, the Arctic Wolves, this is where seven international explorers found themselves alone for two weeks this past July 2024.
The sun orbits the horizon 24/7 in the Arctic, and time is marked only by sleep and meals. Cessation of modern interruptions left the team feeling peace and anxiety, often causing a reflexive glance at a no-signal cell phone.
In this quiet world, each “morning” starts by crawling out of a warm sleeping bag with three questions: Are we safe? Is everyone well? What needs to be done to ensure we are safe tomorrow?
The non-profit Mars Society selected the team to conduct an Arctic expedition on climate research and station restoration. The catch was that the team would also simulate a Martian mission while completing the tasks. Preparations began months before to assess the station's status, purchase supplies and get to know one another. After months of prep and a three-day journey from Ottawa to a small Arctic town called Resolute, the final leg to Tallurutit was in sight. To get to the island, our team boarded Ken Borek's small de Havilland Canada DHC-6 Twin Otter and, an hour later, touched down for a surprisingly smooth but muddy "bush" style landing. Full of reservations about the habitat's status, our team hiked toward what we'd hoped would be home for the next two weeks.
In 2023, a five-person scouting team cracked open the airlock of the Mars Arctic Research Station after six years of abandonment. The goal was to assess the viability of revitalizing the facility as an Arctic research station and spaceflight analog. Initially built in 2000 by air-dropping prefabricated components from three C-130s, the habitat stands as a 25-feet-tall by 27-feet-wide cylinder and is lofted approximately four feet off the ground. The inside consists of 2.5 floors. The first floor has two simulated Airlocks, the Suit and EVA Room, an engineering space, a 10-foot science bench, a toilet, and, as our team found out, misleading shower facilities that looked more beautiful than functional. The second floor is homey with the kitchen, an open space containing tables to eat and relax, and six crew quarters. The "Loft" makes up level 2.5 –an open space overlooking the 2nd level. For our team, this became a seventh crew quarters and extra storage. The facility is luxurious compared to a tent, but in true real estate fashion, the location makes it so valuable. The habitat is positioned on the rim of Haughton Impact Crater (approximately 33 million years old), which provides easy access and research space for rare geologic and fossil samples.
During the 2023 scouting mission, the initial facility conditions required remediation to make the facility livable, requiring a temporary stay outside in tents while working on the facility. Thus, in 2024, uncertain of the facility’s condition, the team had spent many hours planning for an endless set of contingencies. Even knowing we may find ourselves outside in polar bear country, the team was ready to execute regardless of the findings.
The terrain from the airstrip is uneven, muddy and rocky, with sections of mud acting like quicksand, slowing our progress. The bitingly cold and windy day welcomed us and provided insight into the difficulty and sheer reality of living outside. Excited trepidation was on everyone’s mind as we cracked open the habitat to determine if it was livable.
Much later after this expedition, while sitting in my comfortable office at NASA’s Johnson Space Center, where I work as an instructor, the excited trepidation is likely what future planetary explorers will feel landing on Mars: excited to finally reach Mars and anxious to learn the status of their living accommodation. Our team couldn’t wait to explore this uninhabited island in the Arctic, gain insight into the environmental shifts, collect data on climate change, and support future spaceflight research in this remote area. But first, is there even a working bathroom in this place?
With fingers crossed, a quick assessment is done. The habitat was cold and needed ventilation, drying, power, and communication, but it was livable. The team breathed out a frosty sigh of musky air in relief. However, relief was short-lived as the plane took off, and we became the only seven souls on Tallurutit. New priorities developed, ruling our world for the next two weeks as a constant chant in the background – power, communication, and ventilation. Nonetheless, that night, hidden from the sunlight, all seven heads rested inside the facility, protected from the freezing temperatures and wandering hungry polar bears.
In the morning, we woke to the sounds of a generator. The facility’s primary power is gas generators, but like many remote facilities, the goal was to upgrade to renewable sources. Solar and wind power technology demonstrations were conducted to assess alternate power sources and, this year, supplement the generators. With power secure and heat from three working space heaters, a new and novel Arctic problem began to develop – puddles.
Puddles spread across the second floor, and condensation gathered on the outer metal walls due to the rapid heating of the frozen habitat. Although unprepared for this scenario, in hindsight it seems like an expected consequence of heating the formerly icy space that had experienced brutal Arctic winter temperatures of -55F. The puddles brought a wave of humidity, a damp reminder that this far from home, even small decisions may have significant consequences. This unexpected event was a catalyst, hyper-focusing the team on safety, leading to muddy but injury-free field sessions.
The science officer tirelessly planned sample collections and EVAs to ensure the maximal benefit of this rare opportunity to collect data. This field season focused on assessing the environment for nanoplastics. Previous seasons found nanoplastics present in water and snow samples. These particles are even smaller than microplastics and can translate the blood-brain barrier. How did these plastics get to a remote uninhabited island in the Arctic? One of the priorities for collecting these samples is to provide novel insight into the global transmission of plastics into the most remote places on Earth.
Nanoplastic assessment was only one of the science objectives. The other objectives focused on microbial identification, radiation quantification (radon and galactic cosmic radiation), permafrost depth measurements, geo-tagging fossils and breccia (impact rocks), cataloging Arctic ecology and a field assessment of a pressurized analog spacesuit. Sample collection was split into pre-simulation and in-simulation to allow comparison of the human factors for these activities and ensured data collection without impacts due to simulation. While in simulation, the team collected similar samples following protocols for suited operations and mimicking planetary EVAs.
Day-to-day life slipped into an easy non-pattern, and every day held unique challenges. Sleep occurred when you dropped into your tiny bunk, or a wonderful teammate covered the windows with ¼ inch plywood, causing the body’s circadian signals into overdrive and instantly putting us all to sleep. Days were repetitious with work, sleep and work. And the work was crucial, the kind that must get done, or you may not have power, water, or ventilation.
One thing was sure: life here was hard but simple. Priorities were clear: basic survival needs, teammates, and mission objectives. All other items were superfluous. In an age of constant connection, getting cut adrift without communication with the outside world sounds like a post-apocalyptic nightmare. Still, with good selection and training, the team formed strong bonds, enabling survival and success. Understanding how to create this ideal balance of survival and success is just one of the many benefits of spaceflight analogs in extreme environments. Human performance research here provides an understanding of behavior, performance and operations that applies directly to selection, support structure, and preparation for future space explorers, specifically commercial space explorers.
As our expedition was winding down, the team was excited, thinking of the convenient comforts of a hot shower – really, any shower. After nearly two weeks, we prepared the station for the harsh Arctic winter. It was during this excitement that news reached us – weather was coming. The Arctic surprised us with rain and low cloud ceiling. No one was prepared for the news that the planes couldn't fly. With the major systems shutdown in preparation, there was suddenly a lot of free time to reflect on the mission and complete a couple of bucket list items we hadn't had time for – climbing to the top of the station, reading books left by the original teams, creating art with spare paper plates, and talking, lots of talking, about what we were most excited for. It was a close split between a shower and good food.
After three days tied to the almost shutdown habitat, the satellite phone came to life. There was a small window, and after completing the final closeouts, the team rushed to meet the plane. It had been a challenging but fulfilling two weeks completing science, maintaining the research station and developing the rare team camaraderie of family. As the plane approached, feelings of success and pride surfaced. For me, this experience provided new insight into the stress, exhaustion, excitement and pride future astronauts will experience exploring the moon and Mars. This place introduced me to an environment with unparalleled similarity to future Martian/Lunar missions.
Even more exciting than the contributions to future space exploration was the knowledge that the Arctic Wolves had done something hard and, in return, contributed to modern climate and biodiversity changes impacting Earth. Upon leaving, it was clear that the work was not finished. This facility stands ready to step up and support the changing world and the development of innovative strategies to help here on Earth – while keeping an eye on humanity's future in the stars.