An interview with: Francesco Li Vigni, Glacier Operations Manager with Arctic Adventures

Country & Region: Solheimajokull & Skaftafell, Iceland 

Breakthrough: Coastal Tourism

Beneficiaries / Impact: The glaciers of Iceland are both natural monuments of the local ecosystem and critically at risk due to climate change, their delicate nature offering a stark real-time view of its effects. For locals, these icy giants are deeply tied to the nation’s identity, culture, and environment, while tourism centred around glaciers provides jobs and supports conservation initiatives. Yet, the story of Iceland’s glaciers is one of peril and loss. Since 1890, nearly 2,200 square kilometres (849 square miles)—an area the size of Luxembourg—have disappeared, with 750 square kilometres (290 square miles) lost between 2000 and 2019 alone. In fact, scientists warn that Iceland could be glacier-free within 150 years if global temperatures continue to rise. Efforts to slow the melt, like the “blue blob,” a cooler-than-average ocean patch discovered after 2010, have only offered temporary relief. Iceland has responded by committing to reduce carbon emissions by 55% by 2030 and pioneering 100% renewable energy use for heat and electricity, even weaving sustainability initiatives into its national education system. However, despite these measures, the glaciers continue to shrink, driving over-tourism as visitors flock to see them before they vanish which further threatens vital ecosystems and adds pressure to Iceland’s fishing industry. The 2019 funeral for a lost glacier serves as a reminder of the urgent global action needed to protect these fragile landscapes and mitigate climate change’s far-reaching impacts.

In Iceland, glaciers are ubiquitous, covering at least 12% of the country. Four massive ice caps dominate the landscape, including Vatnajökull, the largest in Europe, which feeds over 200 glacier tongues. Some of these tongues are remote and nearly inaccessible, while others are remarkably easy to reach, visible right from the iconic Ring Road—a loop that circles this island nation in the middle of the Atlantic.

The Edges of Earth expedition team travelled to Iceland to witness firsthand the impacts of climate change, exploring one of the most compelling indicators: a receding glacier. The team also sought to understand the vital connections between glaciers, the land, and the sea, and to learn from the guides who confront the stark realities of climate change every day in their work. Among them was Francesco Li Vigni, Glacier Operations Manager with Arctic Adventures, who shared his insights on life at the edge of the ice.

We’re standing on an outlet glacier, a massive river of ice descending from the ice cap above. This particular glacier is called a “hanging glacier” or “full glacier,” which makes perfect sense when you see its dramatic form spilling from the mountain. It originates from Vatnajökull, Europe’s largest ice cap, which lies just beyond the peaks above us. Here in southeast Iceland, we’re actually standing in Vatnajökull National Park, an area rich with glaciers thanks to the immense ice cap dominating the landscape.

What exactly is a glacier? And why am I so captivated by them? Essentially, it’s a colossal mass of compacted snow. Over time, as layer upon layer accumulates, the weight compresses the lower levels into dense ice. Once enough ice forms, gravity pulls it downhill, transforming the glacier into a slow-moving frozen river. The ice beneath our feet has travelled for hundreds of years, journeying from the ice cap to this valley. If you’ve ever packed a snowball so tightly that it becomes a solid, unyielding sphere, then you’ve actually mimicked this process on a small scale.

Glaciers are made up of distinct sections, each with a unique role. At the top is the ice cap, where heavy snowfall feeds the glacier’s formation. As the ice descends, it may flow through an icefall—a dramatic zone akin to a waterfall, where the glacier loses contact with the rocky base and cascades downward. Below the icefall lies the smoother midsection, where the glacier conforms to valleys, filling every contour as it flows.

At the glacier’s terminus—the accessible lower end—the landscape varies. On dry land, the terminus rests on solid rock, while on lakes, it floats, with water reducing friction and speeding movement. This often leads to calving, where massive chunks of ice break off and crash into the water. It’s a dramatic, frequent reminder of a glacier’s dynamic nature. Compression and expansion zones further define glacier topography. Compression areas create smooth, navigable surfaces, while expansion zones occur where the glacier spreads to fill wider valleys, forming dramatic, heavily crevassed landscapes. As the glacier moves, it cracks and reshapes the terrain—a process that has fueled my lifelong fascination with hiking, climbing, and studying these temperamental giants.

Glaciers are often connected to the ocean, but typically do so indirectly. Here in Iceland, the connection begins with meltwater. As glaciers melt, they form glacier lakes at their termini. These lakes carve out flowing rivers, which carry sediment, nutrients, and minerals toward the ocean, shaping the landscape and influencing marine ecosystems along the way. Unlike Greenland, where some glaciers terminate directly into the sea, calving icebergs into the ocean, most Icelandic glaciers feed meltwater through rivers first. This meltwater is vital to coastal areas, delivering fresh, cold water that impacts ecosystems and human communities alike.

The relationship between glaciers and the ocean plays a significant role in the global climate system. Meltwater contributes to rising sea levels and introduces cold freshwater to ocean currents, which can disrupt marine ecosystems and weather patterns far beyond Iceland’s shores. These effects underscore how glaciers, though seemingly remote, are intricately connected to the health of our oceans and the planet as a whole.

Glaciers are a critical source of fresh water, particularly in Greenland and Iceland. They also act as natural mirrors, reflecting sunlight away from the planet and regulating global temperatures. As glaciers shrink, this reflective surface diminishes, causing the earth to absorb more heat—a feedback loop that accelerates climate change. Preserving glaciers helps maintain the planet’s delicate balance, and their loss is a stark warning of the broader effects of global warming.

Although I’m not formally trained as a glaciologist, nearly every day of the past seven years has been spent on the ice. Through constant observation, hands-on experience, and dedicated study, I’ve developed a deep understanding of glaciers and their critical role in our ecosystem. Witnessing their transformation up close has made their importance undeniable.

The changes in the glaciers are both dramatic and constant. As glacier guides, we aim to make these incredible formations accessible to visitors, so we closely monitor their features and shifts. What we see is unsettling: glaciers melting in real-time. Entire sections vanish, routes we once hiked are no longer reachable, and areas that used to mark the highest points of our hikes are now the lowest. Some glacier tongues have retreated so drastically that reaching the ice requires a much longer trek across exposed land.

Summer is a bittersweet time for those of us who work on the glaciers. While we welcome better weather after harsh winters, we also brace ourselves for the rapid retreat of the ice. By May or June, it feels like we’re holding our breath, watching rivers of meltwater carve their way through the ice. The glaciers lose their vibrant blue hues, turning white and hollow as the ice thins. Temperatures rise so much that we sometimes even wear just t-shirts—a surreal and troubling experience on what should be frozen ground.

Summers have grown noticeably warmer and wetter. This year alone was the rainiest in 40 years, paired with unseasonably low temperatures of 12 to 15 degrees Celsius. While cooler weather might seem at odds with global warming, the combination of rain and mild temperatures is disastrous for glaciers. Rain accelerates melting, even more so than sunny days, seeping into the ice and hastening its destruction. Winters, too, are failing to replenish the glaciers. Iceland’s relatively mild winters, typically hovering around freezing, now bring significantly less snowfall—the lifeblood of these ice caps. Without enough snow, the glaciers cannot maintain their mass. What we’re witnessing is the slow starvation of the glaciers, driven by shifting climates and disrupted weather patterns.

For those of us who guide across these landscapes, the reality is stark and sobering. Every step on the ice is a reminder of what’s being lost—and why protecting these frozen giants is more critical than ever. We’re often asked, “Is there anything we can do to stop the glaciers from melting?” Unfortunately, the direct answer is no. In the face of climate change and large-scale human activity, there’s no immediate or physical way to stop the ice from disappearing.

However, nature offers us small hints at possible solutions. For instance, the moraine debris scattered across the glacier acts as a natural insulator, slowing the melt beneath it even as the surrounding ice continues to disappear. Inspired by this, some areas in Europe have experimented with covering portions of glaciers with tarps to create a similar insulating effect. While effective on a small scale, the idea of replicating this across Iceland’s massive glaciers is neither practical nor sustainable.

The only real way to save glaciers is to address the root cause: global warming. Reducing greenhouse gas emissions and slowing planetary warming are the most critical steps—but the clock is ticking. If we haven’t already passed the tipping point, global collective action is essential.

As glacier guides, our role is to focus on what we can do: raise awareness. Guiding isn’t just about adventure; it’s also an opportunity to educate. Every person who steps onto the ice becomes part of the story. By sharing firsthand experiences of glacier retreat, we hope to inspire small yet meaningful changes in habits or mindsets—be it reducing waste, conserving resources, or advocating for broader environmental action.

These moments may seem small, but they matter. We hope the experience stays with visitors long after they leave, prompting even tiny steps toward larger collective action. Perhaps, one day, my daughter will have the chance to show these glaciers to her own children. That’s the future we’re working toward—step by step, story by story. And that’s why I chose glacier guiding as my life’s work.

Growing up in Sicily, my life revolved around the sea—swimming, fishing, and exploring the coastlines. But everything changed when I read The Hobbit. The story of Bilbo Baggins stepping far out of his comfort zone into the mountains resonated with me. Despite living in a place where mountains weren’t part of daily life, I became fascinated. While my friends couldn’t understand why I’d trade sunny beaches for cold peaks, I set out to explore the mountains for myself.

My first trip was to Canada, where the vastness of the mountains and glaciers there left me in awe. From then on, I sought out these wild environments, traveling whenever I could to these mountainous destinations. Over time, I realized I wanted to make this more than just a passion—it was a path I needed to follow. I studied outdoor leadership in Scotland, sharpening my skills, and eventually found my way to Iceland, a place I knew would be the ultimate destination for glaciers.

Iceland has exceeded my expectations in every way. Its raw, untamed beauty drew me in immediately, and after nine years here, I’m still as captivated as I was on my very first day. The glaciers are alive, constantly shifting and evolving, and I’ve made it my life’s work to help others experience them.

But there’s one memory that stands out more than any other summit or climb. I once guided someone who was terrified to step foot onto the ice. With encouragement and patience, they took their first steps, and the look of pride and joy on their face was unforgettable. For me, that’s the heart of guiding—helping others connect with these incredible landscapes in a way they never thought possible.

Every day on the ice is a reminder of how special these places are—and why they’re worth protecting. Like this one, for example. Standing on this glacier right now, what I’m showing you today wouldn’t be what I show someone else tomorrow. From the valley below, the most noticeable marker is the icefall, once a thick cascade of ice flowing seamlessly down the mountainside. Now, the ice has thinned dramatically, leaving a stark gap between the rock and glacier. Massive boulders, once concealed beneath layers of ice, are now exposed, becoming visible markers of the glacier’s retreat.

A simple wooden bridge, built 200 meters from the ice to keep visitors safe from falling blocks, now sits just 30 meters away. The glacier has not only retreated but slid closer to the bridge as it deflates, thinning further with every passing season. Features once hidden beneath the ice—like a waterfall now visible from that same bridge—stand as testaments to this accelerated transformation. What was once the highest point of most guided hikes just six or seven years ago has become the starting point of the same hikes today.

Massive rocks and debris travel across the ice, creating further visual markers of the glacier’s dynamic movement. In some cases, changes are visible in just 24 hours! We show anyone who comes here incredible features—fleeting formations that might disappear in days or even hours—and remind them they are among the last to witness these sights. Visual comparisons with photos taken just weeks earlier prove the urgency of the situation.

For us, guiding isn’t just about adventure. It’s an opportunity to inspire action. We share small but impactful ways visitors can reduce their environmental footprint when they return home: reducing plastic use, conserving water, and making sustainable choices. Even simple acts, like encouraging them to use refillable water bottles with Iceland’s pristine tap water, can spark a shift in perspective. Our hope is that this type of experience leaves a lasting impression. For those who visit here, seeing glaciers melt in real-time is a powerful reminder of the planet’s fragility. And for those of us lucky enough to work in these extraordinary landscapes, it reinforces our responsibility to protect them.

As told to Andi Cross in September 2024.

ABOUT THE OCEAN BREAKTHROUGHS

Resulting from the joint efforts of the Ocean & Coastal Zones community and building on the Ocean for Climate Declaration, the Ocean Breakthroughs have identified five turning points to reach by 2030 in order to achieve a healthy and productive ocean in 2050. These five turning points are focused around the most crucial ocean sectors: marine conservation, ocean renewable energy, shipping, aquatic food, and coastal tourism. Accelerated action and investments in each will help unlock the potential of the ocean as a source of solutions to the pressing challenges posed by climate change and biodiversity loss.

The scientific evidence is clear: as a major climate regulator and the largest living space on Earth, the ocean is integral to deliver on the goals of the Paris Agreement and the Global Biodiversity Framework. The Ocean Breakthroughs are science-based targets designed to boost mitigation and adaptation efforts, for the benefit of People and Nature. They will contribute to delivering on the global campaigns led by the UN Climate Change High-Level Champions, namely the Race to Resilience and Race to Zero, and their respective action agendas: the Sharm-El-Sheikh Adaptation Agenda and the 2030 Breakthroughs.

ABOUT THE HLC X EDGES OF EARTH EXPEDITION

The women-led global expedition, Edges of Earth, has partnered with the UN Climate Change High-Level Champions (HLC) to bring to life the Ocean Breakthroughs initiative by sharing personal accounts and climate action stories from remote coastal communities. This media partnership will feature interview-style stories that highlight the experiences and efforts of locals, Indigenous communities, nonprofits, and ocean scientists in addressing climate change. Celebrating its one-year anniversary, Edges of Earth has traveled to 25 countries (with nearly 30+ more to go throughout 2025) working closely with diverse groups to understand and amplify their climate resilience strategies. Through this collaboration, Edges of Earth will spotlight the five Ocean Breakthroughs by showcasing diverse voices and solutions to accelerate global climate action.