Today, we’re getting in the winter spirit by spotlighting five remarkable marine animals that depend on cold and icy environments to thrive.
1. Narwhals
Narwhals are often called the “unicorns of the sea” because of their long, spiraled tusk. Here are a few more fascinating facts about them:
- Believe it or not, their tusk is actually a tooth used for sensing their environment and sometimes for sparring.
- Narwhals are whales. While many whale species migrate south in the winter, narwhals spend their entire lives in the frigid waters of the circumpolar Arctic near Canada, Greenland and Russia.
- Sea ice provides narwhals with protection as they travel through unfamiliar waters.
2. Walruses
Walruses are another beloved Arctic species with remarkable adaptations for surviving the cold:
- Walruses stay warm with a thick layer of blubber that insulates their bodies from icy air and water.
- Walruses can slow their heart rate to conserve energy and withstand freezing temperatures both in and out of the water.
- Walruses use sea ice to rest between foraging dives. It also provides a vital and safe platform for mothers to nurse and care for their young.
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3. Polar Bears
Polar bears possess several unique traits that help them thrive in the icy Arctic:
- Although polar bear fur appears white, each hair is hollow and transparent, reflecting light much like ice.
- Beneath their thick coats, polar bears have black skin that absorbs heat from the sun. This helps keep polar bears warm in their icy habitat.
- Polar bears rely on sea ice platforms to access their primary prey, seals, which they hunt at breathing holes in the ice.
4. Penguins
Penguins are highly adapted swimmers that thrive in icy waters, but they are not Arctic animals:
- Penguins live exclusively in the Southern Hemisphere, mainly Antarctica, meaning they do not share the frigid northern waters with narwhals, walruses and polar bears.
- Penguins spend up to 75% of their lives in the water and are built for efficient aquatic movement.
- Sea ice provides a stable platform for nesting and incubation, particularly for species like the Emperor penguin, which relies on sea ice remaining intact until chicks are old enough to fledge.
5. Seals
Seals are a diverse group of carnivorous marine mammals found in both polar regions:
- There are 33 seal species worldwide, with some living in the Arctic and others in the Antarctic.
- There are two groups of seals: Phocidae (true seals) and Otariidae (sea lions and fur seals). The easiest way to tell seals and sea lions apart is by their ears: true seals have ear holes with no external flaps, while sea lions and fur seals have small external ear flaps.
- Seals need sea ice for critical life functions including pupping, nursing and resting. They also use ice for molting—a process in which they shed their fur in the late spring or early summer.
Defend the Central Arctic Ocean Action
Some of these cold-loving animals call the North Pole home, while others thrive in the polar south. No matter where they live, these marine marvels rely on sea ice for food, safety, movement and survival.
Unfortunately, a rapidly changing climate is putting critical polar ecosystems, like the Central Arctic Ocean, at risk. That is why Ocean Conservancy is fighting to protect the Central Arctic Ocean from threats like carbon shipping emissions, deep-sea mining and more. Take action now to help us defend the Central Arctic Ocean.
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The post 5 Animals That Need Sea Ice to Thrive appeared first on Ocean Conservancy.
Ocean Acidification
Between Cádiz and the Sea: Our GAME Adventure in Spain
Welcome to Cádiz
When we arrived in Cádiz in April, we knew that we would be spending the next months working on an experiment about underwater soundscapes. What we did not yet know was how much of our time would be spent carrying equipment through the city, rebuilding experimental frames, solving technical problems and trying to convince various pieces of equipment not to end up at the bottom of the Atlantic.
Cádiz itself was a pretty good and beautiful place to start.
The city is located at the very tip of a narrow peninsula and is surrounded by the Atlantic on almost all sides. There are beaches almost everywhere, small streets leading through the old town, the harbour with its many boats and plenty of places where you can simply sit down and watch the sea. It did not take us long to understand why Cádiz is sometimes called La Tacita de Plata, the Silver Cup.
Our first evening was still fairly relaxed. After arriving and settling in, we went out together for a drink and explored a little bit of the city. It was a good introduction to our new home. The next morning, however, the relaxed part was over and GAME 2026 officially began for us.

Our project focuses on how underwater soundscapes may influence the colonization of hard surfaces by marine sessile organisms. To investigate this, we used standardized PVC settlement panels mounted on experimental frames and exposed them to different underwater soundscapes.
Over the course of the experiment, we monitored which organisms settle on the panels and checked whether the developing communities differ between the different acoustic conditions. The panels themselves were only 15 x 15 cm in size, but the frames, which were holding them while they were underwater, were much larger and required quite a bit of construction and preparation.
So, before we could investigate anything, however, we had to build everything.
Building the experiment
The first weeks in Cádiz were all about getting the experiment ready. Before the panels could go into the water, we had to prepare the equipment, rebuild the experimental frames and organize everything needed for the different parts of the experiment. Our setup consisted of large rectangular frames made from PVC pipes that carried the 15 x 15 cm settlement panels while they were in the water. In addition to this, we had speakers for the sound playbacks and ropes, buoys and weights that kept everything in position.
Although, there were frames left from a previous GAME project that was done in Cádiz, we decided to build new ones, which meant sourcing new material, cutting and assembling PVC pipes, preparing the panels and putting the different parts of the setup together. Some materials were bought locally, while others had to be ordered. This also resulted in one of our first small fieldwork adventures: transporting several metres of PVC pipes in a public transport bus through Cádiz was not exactly an everyday activity. We did not have a car at the time, and the large hardware store, where we bought some of the material, was quite far away, so getting everything back to Cádiz meant taking several buses while carrying long PVC pipes through crowded streets and vehicles. We bumped into things more than once, attracted a fair amount of attention and quickly realized that carrying several metres of PVC through a busy city is not as easy as it sounds. At one point, the combination of researchers, long PVC pipes and a local hardware store became what we jokingly refer to as the “Bus Hardware Store” episode.
Building the frames also taught us quite quickly that fieldwork rarely goes exactly according to plan. Some parts required a bit of improvisation and technical problem-solving, and when we reached a particularly stubborn technical issue, we even called Liam’s father in Germany for some additional advice. Although he was not directly involved in the project, his background in mechanical engineering and his experience with practical technical problems made him a useful person to call when we needed another perspective. A video call across Europe was not exactly part of the original plan, but it turned out to be a useful addition to our fieldwork toolkit.

At the same time as we worked on the set up, we were preparing the recordings of natural underwater soundscapes that would later be used for the experiment. For this, we built a deployment system consisting of a concrete-filled bucket, a wooden pole and a HydroMoth attached to the pole. The idea was simple: the heavy bucket keeps the structure stable on the seafloor, while the hydrophone records the surrounding natural soundscape above it. The practical part was considerably less simple. Several heavy loads of concrete had to be transported through Cádiz, and once the equipment reached the beach, getting the concrete-filled bucket into position was another workout altogether. We used a two-wheeled hand truck to move the heavy bucket across the beach and then into the shallow water. From there, we worked our way out by snorkeling and swimming, carrying and guiding the setup into position. The water was no more than about two metres deep, so there was no need for a boat.

The setup may have looked a little unconventional, but it was based on the plans we deleoped for recording natural soundscapes during the preparative course in March. After plenty of cutting, drilling, tying, carrying and assembling, the first major pieces of the project were finally ready. The frames were taking shape, the equipment was coming together and our first soundscape recordings were underway.
With the construction phase coming to an end, there was only one major question left: where exactly will we put everything?
When the plan changed
Finding a suitable experimental site turned out to be one of the more complicated parts of the project.
Our original plans involved a site in a nearby marina, but the situation changed when we were informed that construction work was planned close to the site. The associated noise would have interfered with the acoustic conditions required for our experiment, making the location unsuitable for our setup. We therefore had to move the experiment to a different location at relatively short notice. This meant adapting the setup and transporting the frames again. In the end, we found our new home at Puerto América, at the north-eastern tip of the city.
The change was a good example of how fieldwork can sometimes require a little flexibility. You can spend weeks discussing the experimental design, the set up and the site selection, but once you actually arrive at the water, there are always things that you could not have predicted from a map.
The new location gave us enough space for the experimental setup and allowed us to continue with the project. Hence, the frames were finally transported to Puerto América, weighted and installed.
Getting the frames into the water was actually much easier than building them in the first place. Once we had transported the frames to the harbour, we were able to get them into position and secure them relatively smoothly. The real challenge had been the preparation on beforehand: assembling the large PVC structures, attaching all the necessary components and making sure that everything was ready for deployment.

After weeks of preparation, the frames were finally in the water. The structures that we had spent so much time building on land were now ready to become the basis of our experiment.
From this point on, the focus shifted from building the experiment to monitoring what was happening around it.
Hydrophones, boats and one very expensive swim
Once the experiment was running, the HydroMoths became an important part of our regular monitoring. These small underwater recorders allowed us to record the acoustic conditions around our experimental frames and to measure the sound levels reaching the area of the experiment. This helped us to keep track of the underwater soundscape throughout the experimental period and to verify in hindcast what acoustic conditions the organisms on the settlement panels were actually exposed to.
Of course, regular monitorings also meant regularly getting the equipment in and out of the water. And this was when one of our more memorable fieldwork incidents happened. One day, Liam was alone at the harbour and had a fairly straightforward task: retrieve a HydroMoth, download the data and put it back into the water. Everything went well until the moment when the HydroMoth decided to make the last part of the procedure considerably easier for itself.
It slipped out of his hands and disappeared into the water.
We tried to retrieve it by diving down, but the visibility was extremely poor. Finding a relatively small piece of equipment underwater turned out to be much harder than expected, and despite our efforts, we could not recover it. It was certainly not part of the original plan, but fortunately, the experiment could continue. The lost HydroMoth has since become one of those fieldwork stories that is much easier to laugh about afterwards.

The regular monitorings also revealed how quickly conditions around the experimental site can change. One day, for example, we arrived at the harbour and found a boat parked remarkably close to our experimental setup, almost directly next to our buoys. Luckily, nothing was damaged and the boat did not cause any problems for the frames, but it was certainly an unexpected sight when we arrived.

Working in a harbour means that we are sharing the space with many other users, and sometimes the surroundings have a few surprises in store for us. Fortunately, most of them have been harmless so far.
From PVC panels to marine communities
The most interesting changes, however, did not happen above the water.
They happened on the settlement panels.
At the beginning of the experiment, the panels were simply pieces of PVC. We sanded their surfaces and standardized them so that they would provide suitable settlement substrates for marine sessile organisms. After deployment, there was not much to see.
Then the first organisms started to arrive.
During the first sampling events, we began to see the panels changing. Small organisms had settled on the surfaces, and the communities became increasingly diverse. Ascidians and bryozoans were among those colonizers that became particularly noticeable, together with worms, crustaceans and algae.
Suddenly, the panels that we had spent weeks preparing were becoming real pieces of habitat.

That was probably one of the most rewarding moments of the project. You knew exactly what a panel looked like before it went into the water. Then you retrieve it a few weeks later and had to figure out what has colonized it.
Some organisms were relatively easy to recognize. Others required a microscope, identification guides and considerably more patience.
Our supervisor was a huge help with this part of the project, especially when it came to identifying organisms that were less obvious at first glance. What initially looked like a small patch of something growing on a panel, could turn out to be

