The obscenities spelled out in the ground were disturbing enough. So were the Canadian military helicopters landing on the most sensitive areas. Then there were pieces of 45-million-year-old wood being used for campfires by unknown persons or taken away by tourists on luxury liners cruising the Arctic Ocean.

But what really worried University of Saskatchewan scientist James Basinger was an American plan to excavate the fossil forest on Axel Heiberg Island in the Arctic he had been researching for the 15 years.

"They basically wanted to mine the site, the way I saw it," he said.

"They had asked me to get involved last year, but I couldn’t accept the possibility of sacrificing the forest for the science. So I politely declined, and I let everyone involved in the approval process know that I disagree with this."

The fossil forest is located on the northeast corner of Axel Heiberg, an uninhabited island covered by mountainous glaciers and huge expanses of polar desert.

Discovered by helicopter pilot Paul Tudge and Geological Survey of Canada scientists in August 1985, the forest is one of the largest, oldest and most exquisitely preserved sites of its kind in the world. Federal and territorial bureaucrats have targeted it for United Nations World Heritage site status.

So far, more than 1,000 stumps and tree trunks – some of them more than six metres long and 2.5 metres wide – have been mapped out from a time when the polar region was warm enough to produce dawn redwood swamps, deciduous flood-plains and boreal forest uplands inhabited by rhinoceros-like creatures, soft-shelled turtles, alligators and host of small mammals.

The quality of preservation is so extraordinary that scientists believe the forest holds important clues about the ancient history of North America and the global climatic change the world is now facing.

"There really is nothing quite like this anywhere," according to Basinger. "In terms of polar fossil forests of this age and size, this is the best – a real Canadian treasure."

En route to the site in early July, Basinger assumed from a Web-site list of polar projects the Canadian government was supporting that the American proposal had been withdrawn. Certainly no one gave him the heads-up when the Geological Survey of Canada’s Polar Continental Shelf Project approved his $30,000 research plan. And it seemed to him too wild a thought for them to give the go-ahead to two scientific projects on such a small and fragile site.

It was the Polar Shelf cook in Resolute in Nunavut Territory who tipped Basinger off that he would not be alone this summer. The Americans not only received the required permits, Basinger was soon to discover, but a former student, Saskatoon native Ben Lepage who went on to the University of Pennsylvania, was part of the stars and stripes team.

"My first instinct was to go home," Basinger said later: "There was clearly no room for all of us at this site. But I owed it to the students and scientists I had brought along to continue. I also had to see for myself what the Americans were up to and what they were doing to the forest."

Basinger had plenty of time to prepare himself for the inevitable confrontation. It is a 2 ½ - hour flight in a twin-engine plane from Resolute to a weather station on Ellesmere Island, then a half-hour helicopter flight to Axel Heiberg Island.

No amount of time, however, could have prepared Basinger for what he saw as the chopper crossed the frozen fiord and descended over the mountainous terrain of the forest site. On a hilltop at least a dozen people hovered over trenches and holes. In the valley below were 15 tents and a skull and crossbones flag flying at half-mast outside one of the two heated shelters the Americans had brought in. In a symbolic show of protest, Basinger’s students would later hoist a huge Canadian flag in front of their humble camp.

In hindsight, Basinger realized that he should have seen something like this coming. What he and other scientists had uncovered thus far is nothing short of remarkable, a site that most scientists would die for:

Fossils from forest remains can be found throughout the Arctic. But those at Axel Heiberg are extensive and largely preserved as mummifications. Analysis of the remains indicate they were buried in fresh water, probably by a flood, in an environment where little or no mineralization could undermine the organic integrity of the trees, cones, twigs, leaf litters, boles and roots. Some of the specimens are so perfectly preserved that they are almost indistinguishable from the wood one would find on the floor of a modern coniferous forest.

Two trees dominated the ancient swamp forest at Axel Heiberg – Metasequoia or dawn redwood, and Glyptostrobus, the swamp cypress. Evidence of the existence of other plants is rare, but Osmunda – or royal fern – has been identified.

The upland flora is represented by tough things such as pinecones, spruce cones and the woody nuts of walnut that could survive being washed into the forest site by river:

It was a relatively dry floodplain that occupied most of the region’s terrain. If one could have walked through the broad-leafed deciduous trees, including oak, birch, sycamore and walnuts that grew there, one would have been reminded of the Carolinian forests of Georgia.

The presence of dawn redwood and swamp cypress suggest a climate in which the mean annual temperature was between 12 and 15 C, with temperatures perhaps as high as 25 C during the warmest months and just above freezing at the coldest times.

Estimating temperatures that occurred some 45 million years ago is itself a daunting task. But deriving climatic conditions from the fossil forest plants based on similar modern plant physiology becomes even more complicated when one considers this forest was unique, subjected as it was to 24 hours of total darkness or nonstop sunlight as much as eight months of the year.

How plants adapted to such stressful conditions is a mystery because there is really nothing to compare it to in the modern world.

Scientists are just as intrigued by the wildlife that existed. Evidence of mammalian life has been extremely scanty, owing to the acidity that the coniferous trees induced to the soils. But fragments of blue-tinged enamel from the teeth of at least one creature – the rhinoceros-like titanthier – have been found, most likely because it had teeth massive enough to survive for so long.

The presence of this creature is consistent with other similarly aged finds on Ellesmere Island. Places like Strathcona Fiord have revealed the presence of alligators, soft-shelled turtles, flying lemurs and a host of animals that are now extinct.

Like most scientists, Basinger approaches his studies with a dispassionate eye. But even he concedes there is something spiritual about a solitary walk across the forest site where one can gaze upon some of the protruding stumps and imagine what the world was like back then.

"I still haven’t got over marvelling at the forces that produced all this so far north" he said. "Maybe it’s because I’m part of a different breed of scientists. Paleontologists, by nature, never lose their ability to wonder."

Just what produced a lush, temperate environment in a wold where saxifrage, poppies, muskoxen and Peary caribou are now just hanging in there?

One theory suggests a "greenhouse effect" in which carbon dioxide levels were sufficiently high to act as an insulating blanket over the earth. But from what we know about modern global climate, that itself can not account for so much polar warmth. Another theory suggests the now extinct Turgai Strait of Asia allowed for the movement of warm ocean currents through the Arctic.

Not surprisingly, Basinger had other things to ponder days after his arrival. The first contact he had with the Americans was a brief one with Dick Jagels. Having spent a year at the University of Alberta back in the 1960’s, Jagels may have been sensitive about being perceived as one of a number of Americans muscling out a Canadian scientist on his own turf. The level of conversation in any case didn’t rise above chit-chat.

Ben Lepage also wandered over, but to a more frosty reception. He insisted he had no idea that Basinger was resuming his work on the site this year. No apology, however, was forthcoming.

It was two days before Basinger came face to face with the real architect of the project, University of Pennsylvania ecologist Art Johnson.

Johnson’s energetic disposition and his passion for fine cigars, at least one of which he ground into the forest floor with his foot, didn’t exactly cut a sympathetic image. Neither did the hard hat and chainsaw that he used to dislodge some of the more magnificent trees out of the ground. Yet Johnson proved to be forthright, even charming in his own way.

The goal of the American team, according to Johnson, was not to compete or displace a Canadian scientist, but to reconstruct the forest environment in such a manner that would shed some light on the climatic, atmospheric and environmental conditions that produced this ecosystem. The information, Johnson said, might well shed some light on the global climate change during a time when humans had no impact.

"What we have here is unique," he said. "The wood, the bark, the leaves, the imprints in the rock are so well preserved and remarkable – there is really nothing quite like it."

Sensing the political implication of his presence, Johnson offered to make Basinger a director of his project. "Tell Jim that we have money for him, in the amount of six figures over three years," he said. "That’s money that all goes to science, not overhead, if he’s prepared to join." Oddly enough, Basinger grew to admire, even like, Johnson. "He’s basically a nice guy. But I’d be a hypocrite if I accepted his offer, even if it represented far more money that the Canadian government would ever give me."

Johnson’s credibility as a scientist was never an issue – not to Basinger nor to officials in the Canadian Heritage Department who had caught wind of what he was up to and advised the various scientific approval agencies that his project was potentially destructive.

Those in the federal government who had been lobbying for legislative protection are now reviving their efforts to have the fossil forest protected by the National Parks Act.

Bill Peters, a director-general with the Canadian Heritage Department, says the most likely option is to extend the boundaries of Ellesmere Island National Park over to the northeast corner of Axel Heiberg.

The other issue to be addressed has been raised in the past by a number of high-profile polar scientists like Ian Stirling of the Canadian Wildlife Service and geographer John England of the University of Alberta. They fear the federal government’s lack of commitment to polar science is going to result in a system where first-rate, but poorly funded Canadian projects are going to become increasingly vulnerable to big-money science from outside the country.

Back home in Saskatoon, Basinger is resigning himself in the fact that he may never resume his research at the fossil forest. He is, however, heartened by the possibility that Axel Heiberg might be protected by national park legislation.

"I had once believed that the less publicity there was about the fossil forest, the less likely people would be attracted to the site," Basinger said. "Now, I’m convinced there has to be some sort of legislative framework that would ensure that this treasure be protected from indiscriminate vandalism, from tourism and even from scientists like me and the Americans who might be sacrificing the forest to get at the science."

What the future holds for the Axel Heiberg’s fossil forest is still unclear. Federal inspectors were sent up to the site a week ago to assess whether the American excavation was destructive. Following in their footsteps was federal Environment Minister Christine Stewart, who is expected to provide some background to her colleagues in cabinet.

Bill Peters, who had been meeting with federal counterparts to discuss options, said it may be too late to do anything this year. The bottom line, he says, is to establish an assessment framework that would ensure that big science projects are closely monitored to ensure that sites of historical or scientific importance are not sacrificed.

(In collaboration with Canadian Geographic magazine)