ICBM MAGAZINE

Volume 1, Issue 1

WHEN NORTH ISN'T NORTH

Navigation Reality in the Canadian Arctic

Or: What Happens When Your Compass Stops Working at 70°N

I've spent years studying Arctic operations, but it wasn't until I sat down with Retired Army Veteran Derek Arnold that the full picture crystallized. We were reviewing Canadian sovereignty patrol data when he tapped the map at the 70th parallel and said something I won't forget: "Above this line, your compass isn't giving you north. It's giving you a suggestion, and it's usually wrong."

He wasn't being dramatic. He was being precise.

For the Canadian Armed Forces conducting Sovereignty Operations (SOVOP) in the High Arctic, magnetic compass failure isn't a curiosity—it's operational reality. And the solution they've adopted might surprise you: astral compasses and sextants. Tools that predate the jet age, still in active use, because in the Arctic, 18th-century navigation works when 21st-century systems fail.

Arnold put it simply: "When you're 500 miles from the nearest runway and your GPS glitches, you don't want to be guessing. You want celestial math that's been proven for 300 years."

WHY MAGNETIC COMPASSES FAIL: THE PHYSICS OF COLLAPSE

I asked Arnold to walk me through what actually happens to a magnetic compass as you move north. His explanation was sobering.

"The Earth's magnetic field isn't stable," he said. "Near the poles, it does three things that make magnetic navigation unreliable—and above 70°N, essentially impossible."

1. Extreme Magnetic Dip The magnetic field lines plunge steeply into the Earth. Near the pole, they're almost vertical. "Your compass needle wants to point down into the ground," Arnold explained. "It tilts, drags, and stops rotating smoothly. You're trying to read direction from an instrument that's fighting physics."

2. Horizontal Component Collapse A compass works by aligning with the horizontal component of Earth's magnetic field. Near the pole, that component approaches zero. "There's nothing for the needle to grab onto," Arnold said. "It wobbles. It oscillates. Sometimes it just sits there pointing nowhere useful."

3. Rapid Magnetic Variation Magnetic north and true north diverge by 30 to 40 degrees in northern Canada, and that variation changes year to year. "The North Magnetic Pole is drifting toward Siberia at about 55 kilometers annually," Arnold noted. "Even if your compass worked perfectly, the heading it gives you could be 35 degrees off reality. Fly that long enough and you're not just off course—you've missed your alternate, your search zone, maybe the only runway within 500 nautical miles."

Above 70°N, the magnetic compass becomes a liability. For sovereignty patrols where precision determines mission success, that's unacceptable.

ASTRAL COMPASSES: WHEN THE SKY BECOMES YOUR REFERENCE

So if magnetism fails, what's the alternative?

"You look up," Arnold said. "Sun, moon, stars—celestial bodies with predictable positions. They don't care about magnetic drift or ionospheric chaos. They just... are."

An astral compass determines true heading by referencing celestial bodies, combined with precise time and position data. It's immune to magnetic interference, electronic jamming, and the atmospheric disruptions that plague Arctic radio navigation.

Arnold described the principle in terms I could understand: "A celestial body's position in the sky is mathematically predictable. If you know the exact time and your approximate location, you can calculate its bearing. Align that bearing with your compass rose, and you have true north. Simple physics. Reliable physics."

Why This Still Matters

I asked Arnold why astral navigation remains relevant when GPS exists.

"Because GPS can be denied," he said flatly. "Space weather disrupts it. Solar storms black it out. Adversaries can jam it. In SOVOP, we assume GPS might not be there. That's not pessimism—that's doctrine. Presence without dependence. We operate in the Arctic because we can prove we don't need perfect conditions or uncontested technology."

He gestured to the polar map between us. "During polar summer, the sun circles the horizon continuously. During polar night, it vanishes—but the moon and stars remain. Celestial navigation gives you consistency where magnetic systems give you chaos. And no one can jam the sun."

SEXTANTS: ANALOG PRECISION IN A DIGITAL WORLD

Arnold handed me a sextant during our conversation—a brass-and-glass instrument that felt impossibly analog.

"This measures the angle between a celestial body and the horizon," he explained. "With accurate time and astronomical tables, you can calculate latitude, longitude, and position fixes. No satellites. No electronics. No terrestrial infrastructure required."

I asked him if this was purely backup, something tucked away for emergencies.

"It's not backup," Arnold corrected. "It's resilience. The Arctic is contested. Russia has electronic warfare systems across the region. China calls itself a 'near-Arctic state' and is building icebreakers. The U.S. has strategic interests here. Assuming GPS will always work is negligence, not planning."

He continued: "A sextant works at −40°C. It works during solar storms. It works when the ionosphere is in chaos and radio navigation aids are down. It works when every satellite in the constellation has been degraded or jammed. It works because it relies on the predictable motion of objects in space—the oldest reference system humanity has."

SOVOP: SOVEREIGNTY MEANS KNOWING WHERE YOU ARE

Arnold spent years involved in operations that most Canadians never hear about—patrols across frozen expanses where the nearest help might be days away. He described SOVOP as fundamentally about proving capability.

"Sovereignty isn't a claim on a map," he said. "It's operational presence under the worst possible conditions. SOVOP exists to demonstrate that Canada can navigate, patrol, and enforce control in the Arctic—independently—when everything modern has failed."

That means:

• Navigation methods that work without satellites

• Tools that function during polar night, whiteout conditions, and electronic warfare

• Skills executed by trained personnel, not algorithms

"This is why we still train in celestial navigation," Arnold emphasized. "Not because it's traditional or quaint. Because in the Arctic, navigation is sovereignty. The ability to move and enforce presence—independent of magnetic reliability or satellite infrastructure—is what makes a territorial claim real."

REDUNDANCY AS STRATEGIC DOCTRINE

I pushed Arnold on whether maintaining analog navigation skills was inefficient in a GPS-dependent military.

"It's insurance," he said. "Modern militaries assume GPS. Flight management, precision munitions, logistics, search-and-rescue—all baseline satellite navigation. But baselines fail. And in the Arctic, they fail more often."

He described a scenario: a CC-130J Hercules flying a sovereignty patrol over the Northwest Passage at 70°N in January. No GPS. No magnetic heading. Radio comms intermittent due to auroral interference.

"The crew doesn't fall back on guesswork," Arnold said. "They fall back on the sun, a sextant, and celestial math that has worked for 300 years. That capability—navigating when everything modern has failed—is what makes Arctic sovereignty real."

FINAL BEARING

Talking with Derek Arnold clarified something I'd suspected but couldn't articulate: the Canadian Arctic is a place where technological assumptions break down.

Magnetic compasses lie. GPS flickers. Radio fades. The environment is hostile not just to human life, but to the systems we've built to navigate it.

And so Canada's forces do what the Arctic has always demanded: adapt, prepare for the worst, and carry tools that work when everything else fails.

Arnold's final thought stayed with me: "In a region where 'north' isn't magnetically stable, celestially defined true north becomes the only reliable reference. In a domain where satellite navigation can vanish in seconds, a sextant becomes a strategic asset. Navigation in the Arctic isn't about convenience. It's about presence. And presence is sovereignty."

Because in the High North, the only claim that matters is the one you can prove by showing up—and knowing exactly where you are when you get there.

ICBM Magazine explores the intersection of defense technology, strategic operations, and geopolitical reality. Volume 1, Issue 1 examines Arctic navigation because even in an age of hypersonic missiles and satellite constellations, sometimes the most critical capability is the simplest one: knowing which way is north.

Special thanks to Retired Army Veteran Derek Arnold for his operational insight and patience with my questions.