Before the Little Ice Age, Vikings would sail as far northwest as Ruin Island, Skraeling Island, and Ellesmere Island, for expeditions and to trade with the Inuit tribes. Some ships would make it north of Canada and west of Greenland, but Vikings being Vikings, their propensity didn’t lie with cartography.
Between the end of the 15th century and 20th century, colonial countries would dispatch explorers in an attempt to discover a hypothetical commercial sea route they would later call the North West Passage. Hyped by Viking myths, this discovery would considerably shortened the trade route from Europe to Asia. With most colonialists heading due west, the Americas would be explored, not for their amber waves of grain, but because ships were sailing up their rivers thinking they could get to the other side.
Pioneers would continue to focus their efforts on finding a northwest passage. Hefty prizes, combined with a hint of scientific naiveté, that seawater was incapable of freezing, would keep explorers busy for centuries. Thwarted by icebergs, the many somewhat pitiful explorations would continue into the 20th century until the first success in 1906, by Roald Amundsen in his heavily fortified mechanical icebreaking ship.
The Northwest Passage
By the summer of 2008 much of the ice would have melted. Ships would sail through the once frozen water that had been the final constraint of so many dreams and aspirations for centuries. The Northwest Passage would be temporarily and controversially opened allowing its first commercial vessel to pass through without encounter ice.
On the surface it is a simple story of the double–edged sword. Trade from Europe to Asia could be shortened and money potentially saved, however this would be due to what could be man’s greatest unseen enemy—global warming. Furthermore, this was just the tip of the iceberg, the story was much more complex if one looked underwater.
As fate would have it, one year leading up to the first commercial ship crossing the northwest passage, Moscow would set forth to annex the entire North Pole, a completely submerged and unclaimed island archipelago. Call it imperial ambitions or modern technology fused with classic 19th century territorial expansion, a scientific expedition headquartered in St. Petersburg would use mini-submersibles to drop a flag on the North Pole seabed in June 2007.
This measure not only sent a message to the arctic region but to the power players of the world economy as well. The message was clear: there is a whole lot of untaped oil in the arctic and someone is going to get it.
The focus of contemporary colonial power would turn back to the Northwest Passage. New powers would be in the mix. Oil would be the fortune of the modern day colonialist and everyone within range would be fixed on a potential wealth rumored equal to the stash of Saudi Arabia.
The ice-frozen North Pole, considered a ‘no man’s land’ supervised by a U.N. Commission, would be sought after by the five polar countries: Russia, the U.S., Canada, Norway and Denmark. Each would control a 200-mile economic zone along their coasts, none of which extending to the North Pole.
The Canadian government would claim the waters of the Northwest Passage, particularly those in the Canadian arctic archipelago, the U.S.A. would tout claim through its northern state of Alaska, and both the Danes and Russians would say that without a doubt the submerged mountain range of the North Pole connected directly with to their territory.
The stakes would be high and oil companies would be gung-ho. Even though the Russian effort would be declared meaningless under international law, its symbolic value was immense.
Offshore Rigs
The sea has always been a place for disagreements and lawlessness, that’s one of the reasons why capital cities are strategically placed inland. Pirating, a profession as old as prostitution, has proven the competence of affecting the world economy through threats and successful hijackings of important cargo such as tourists, oil, and weapons.
When it comes to Hijacking this sort of booty however, it is technically considered terrorism.
Politics and oil are so connected they have mantras for one another. “Drill Baby Drill” is a new slogan popularized reciently, and “Get the Government off our Backs” has been around for the past 3 decades. According to some there are roughly 3,557 active Oil rigs around the globe, the average cost of a new oil rig is far over the $100 million range. However amid a decline of oil cost, U.S. rig are dropping considerably.
In the Gulf of Mexico alone there are over 3000 oil platforms, most of which are either abandoned, or not in use. Their structures remain standing above the surface of the water like mechanical quadrupeds protecting us from unknown sea invaders.
Surfers from Santa Barbara to Rio De Janeiro know oil rigs well. Beyond the oncoming waves oil platforms stand on the edge of continental shelves. For purists, the sight is painful; when one comes to confront nature mano-a-mono its more than argo to get oil stuck in your surf wax. For the rest its another reminder that you are on this earth trying to survive amid the contemporary turmoil of life.
But here is where it gets complicated; once a rig stops producing economical quantities of oil, the site is usually abandoned, and in the US it is understood that oil rigs will be removed within one year of termination on operation. However, many scientists have discovered that oil rigs have spawned lush marine habitats that are home to a surplus of rare corals and tens of thousands of fish. Oceanographers remark that keeping the rigs standing in the sea, in some cases is more beneficial than having them removed. Also, the growing reef and partial removal of oil platforms creates challenges for ships navigating shallow waters.
Offshre Oill Rig
Off the westernmost coast of Japan, is an island called Hashima Island, aka Gunkanjima or battleship island. Once a bustling community, primary school, junior high school, playground, gymnasium, pinball parlor, movie theater, bars, restaurants, 25 different retail shops, hospital, hairdresser, Buddhist temple, Shinto shrine, and brothels, the island now sits abandoned, looming above the ocean like a concrete labyrinth of apartment houses and mining structures woven together.
Long before its high bulkheads and densely constructed buildings, the island was nothing more than a small reef. In 1810, the chance discovery of coal drastically changed the fate of Gunkajima. A coal mine was established, people were relocated, and due to mining the reef started to expand in size.
The coalmines were met with initial success, and bought by the then burgeoning Mitsubishi Group. At Hashima, Mitsubishi launched a project to tap the coal resources under the sea bottom, successfully sinking a 199-meter-long vertical shaft in 1895. As the mine grew so did the population and the demands of its people.
The structures that were built by Mitsubishi to house the people were considerably advanced for their time. Do to the scale and difficulty to build on an island, some of Japan’s earliest reinforced concrete buildings were built on Hashima. Through WWII Hashima continued to drill as the to support the war effort. As you can imagine this island wasn’t exactly the Maldives. One account illustrates what it may have been like to be there:
The buildings were made of concrete and had mortar on the outside, but the interior was filthy and falling apart…. We were given uniforms like rice bags to wear and forced to begin work the morning after arrival. We were constantly watched and ordered around by Japanese guards, some of whom were wearing swords.
The mine was deep under the sea, the workers reaching it by elevator down a long narrow shaft. The coal was carried out from a spacious underground chamber, but the digging places were so small that we had to crouch down to work. It was excruciating, exhausting labor. Gas collected in the tunnels, and the rock ceilings and walls threatened to collapse at any minute. I was convinced that I would never leave the island alive.
The population of Hashima reached a peak of 5,259 in 1959. People were jammed into every nook and corner of the apartment blocks. The island had to import its own water At 835 people per hectare for the whole island, Hashima is said to have reached one of the higher population density recorded. But as the interest from coal shifted to petroleum in the 70s the mine shut down and the residence abandoned ship.
The sea is a vast entity covering over 70% of the earth’s surface, the depths of which are fairly unexplored by humans. From the North pole to the Indian Ocean, pirates and modern day colonialists are again active, although in the 21st century they aren’t after gold, the new cache is oil.
If infrastructure is claiming undeclared land beneath the seas, what do these structures mean to the culture that is building it? And for the days beyond oil, how do humans deal with the temporary investments that currently drive the world into its unknown future?
Oil rigs are outliers–fortifications on the fringe of humanity. Given their impermanent function, hefty price tag and lasting presence both physically and economically, how can they be seen relating to culture as we move forward? And is their existence sustainable?
