Canadian ice master makes Olympic history with the Games' 1st indoor temporary speedskating rink

RHO, Italy (AP) — No ice is colder and harder than speedskating ice. The precision it takes has meant that Olympic speedskaters have never competed for gold on a temporary indoor rink – until the 2026 Milan Cortina Winter Games.

In the pursuit of maximum glide and minimum friction, Olympic officials brought on ice master Mark Messer, a veteran of six previous Olympic speedskating tracks and the ice technician in charge of the Olympic Oval in Calgary, Canada — one of the fastest tracks in the world with over 300 records.

Messer has been putting that experience to work one thin layer of ice at a time since the end of October at the new Speed Skating Stadium, built inside adjacent trade fair halls in the city of Rho just north of Milan.

“It’s one of the biggest challenges I’ve had in icemaking,’’ Messer said during an interview less than two weeks into the process.

If Goldilocks were a speedskater, hockey ice would be medium hard, for fast puck movement and sharp turns. Figure skating ice would be softer, allowing push off for jumps and so the ice doesn’t shatter on landing. Curling ice is the softest and warmest of all, for controlled sliding.

For speedskating ice to be just right, it must be hard, cold and clean. And very, very smooth.

“The blades are so sharp, that if there is some dirt, the blade will lose the edge,’’ Messer said, and the skater will lose speed.

Speedskater Enrico Fabris, who won two Olympic golds in Turin in 2006, has traded in his skates to be deputy sports manager at the speedskating venue in Rho. For him, perfect ice means the conditions are the same for all skaters — and then if it's fast ice, so much the better.

"It's more of a pleasure to skate on this ice,'' he said.

Messer’s first Olympics were in Calgary in 1988 — the first time speedskating was held indoors. “That gave us some advantages because we didn’t have to worry about the weather, wind blowing or rain,’’ he said. Now he is upping the challenge by becoming the first ice master to build a temporary rink for the Olympics.

Before Messer arrived in Italy, workers spent weeks setting up insulation to level the floor and then a network of pipes and rubber tubes that carry glycol — an antifreeze — that is brought down to minus 7 or minus 8 degrees Celsius (17.6 to 19.4 degrees Fahrenheit) to make the ice.

Water is run through a purification system — but it can’t be too pure, or the ice that forms will be too brittle. Just the right amount of impurities “holds the ice together,’’ Messer said.

The first layers of water are applied slowly, with a spray nozzle; after the ice reaches a few centimeters it is painted white — a full day’s work — and the stripes are added to make lanes.

“The first one takes about 45 minutes. And then as soon as it freezes, we go back and do it again, and again and again. So we do it hundreds of times,’’ Messer said.

As the ice gets thicker, and is more stable, workers apply subsequent layers of water with hoses. Messer attaches his hose to hockey sticks for easier spreading.

What must absolutely be avoided is dirt, dust or frost — all of which can cause friction for the skaters, slowing them down. The goal is that when the skaters push “they can go as far as possible with the least amount of effort,’’ Messer said.

The Zamboni ice resurfacing machine plays a key role in keeping the track clean, cutting off a layer and spraying water to make a new surface.

One challenge is gauging how quickly the water from the resurfacing machine freezes in the temporary rink.

Another is getting the ice to the right thickness so that the Zamboni, weighing in at six tons, doesn’t shift the insulation, rubber tubing or ice itself.

“When you drive that out, if there’s anything moving it will move. We don’t want that,’’ Messer said.

The rink got its first big test on Nov. 29-30 during a Junior World Cup event. In a permanent rink, test events are usually held a year before the Olympics, leaving more time for adjustments. “We have a very small window to learn,’’ Messer acknowledged.

Dutch speedskater Kayo Vos, who won the men’s neo-senior 1,000 meters, said the ice was a little soft — but Messer didn’t seem too concerned.

“We went very modest to start, now we can start to change the temperatures and try to make it faster and still maintain it as a safe ice,’’ he said.

Fine-tuning the air temperature and humidity and ice temperature must be done methodically — taking into account that there will be 6,000 spectators in the venue for each event. The next real test will be on Jan. 31, when the Olympians take to the ice for their first training session.

“Eighty percent of the work is done but the hardest part is the last 20 percent, where we have to try to find the values and the way of running the equipment so all the skaters get the same conditions and all the skaters get the best conditions,’’ Messer said.

AP Winter Olympics: https://apnews.com/hub/milan-cortina-2026-winter-olympics

Serpentines are set on the ice of the stadium where speed skating discipline of the Milan Cortina 2026 Winter Olympics will take place, in Rho, outskirt of Milan, Tuesday, Nov. 11, 2025. (AP Photo/Luca Bruno)

Ice Master Mark Messer poses in the stadium where speed skating discipline of the Milan Cortina 2026 Winter Olympics will take place, in Rho, outskirt of Milan, Tuesday, Nov. 11, 2025. (AP Photo/Luca Bruno)

Workers clean the ice surface during a peed skating Junior World Cup and Olympic test event, in Rho, near Milan, Italy, Saturday, Nov. 29, 2025. (AP Photo/Luca Bruno)

Ice Master Mark Messer poses in the stadium where speed skating discipline of the Milan Cortina 2026 Winter Olympics will take place, in Rho, outskirt of Milan, Tuesday, Nov. 11, 2025. (AP Photo/Luca Bruno)

Ice Master Mark Messer poses in the stadium where speed skating discipline of the Milan Cortina 2026 Winter Olympics will take place, in Rho, outskirt of Milan, Tuesday, Nov. 11, 2025. (AP Photo/Luca Bruno)

LAGOS, Nigeria (AP) — Beneath an eight-lane expressway, Nigerian men stand waist-deep in the Lagos Lagoon, lowering buckets into murky water. Each load brings up sand, reshaping the coastline of Africa’s largest city and driving away fish and livelihoods for some of its poorest people.

Not far from the bridge, wooden boats are loaded with sand. One of thousands of local dredgers, Akeem Sossu, 34, has been diving for sand for at least three years. He slips beneath the surface for about 15 seconds at a time, hauling up bucketloads bound for construction sites.

Akeem said he and his partner earn about 12,000 naira ($8) each per boatload, selling to a middleman who supplies larger buyers. Filling a boat takes about three hours. Formerly a tailor, he said dredging now supports his household.

“I come out early, sometimes 5 a.m. or 6 a.m., depending on the tide,” he said.

Dredgers and local traders say the price of sand, crucial for making concrete, has risen steadily as development in Lagos has accelerated. A standard 30-ton truckload of what’s known as sharp sand — coarse and gritty — now sells for about 290,000 naira, or roughly $202, reflecting strong demand.

The changes to the lagoon that buffers the megacity of about 17 million people are unmistakable. What was once an open stretch of water is increasingly broken up by sandy patches, narrowing channels and reshaping currents that support thousands of fishermen.

The transformation is most visible near Makoko, one of Lagos’ oldest fishing communities. Dredging barges operate close to homes built on stilts, while reclaimed land and construction of upscale beachfront properties press in from the edges. Residents say the encroachment has destroyed fishing grounds and put many out of work.

Nearby, fishermen wait for the day’s dredging to pause. They say that when it does, even briefly, some fish return.

Lagos, Nigeria’s economic engine, is in constant construction. Roads, bridges and housing estates are rising daily on reclaimed waterfronts as the city's rich displace many of its poor.

Over the past five years, dozens of registered dredging firms and numerous informal operators have sprung up or increased their operations, extracting sand from rivers and coastal waters across Lagos State.

Industry analysts estimate the city consumes tens of millions of cubic meters of sand each year, an amount roughly equivalent to 16,000 Olympic-sized swimming pools.

Lagoon sand is particularly prized by builders, who say it produces stronger concrete than sand that is dredged inland.

Fishermen and environmental researchers say the cost of that demand is increasingly visible in the water.

“We are not powerful,” said a community leader of Makoko, Baale Semede Emmanuel. “Dredgers have spoiled the entire waters.”

Fishermen there say dredging has wiped out shallow areas where fish once spawned before moving into deeper waters. At times, fish are sucked through dredging pipes.

“Anywhere dredging is happening, there’s no fish,” Emmanuel said. “The noise drives them away. The places where they used to reproduce are gone.”

With catches shrinking, fishermen say they must travel farther offshore, increasing fuel costs and exposure to rougher seas. Some have stopped fishing altogether.

“We have no other work apart from fishing,” Emmanuel said. “If we don’t find fish, we will starve.”

For some fishermen, dredging has forced an uneasy shift away from the sea. Joshua Monday said he has largely parked his two fishing boats and now works as a mechanic.

He learned how to fix boat engines years ago as a backup.

“If not for this mechanic work, I don’t know how I would survive,” he said.

He said rising costs and shrinking catches have made fishing untenable. Fuel can cost more than 150,000 naira ($104) for a single trip, he said, with no guarantee of a return.

“Sometimes you go to the sea and come back with nothing,” he said. “All the fuel is gone.”

Meanwhile, he said, wealthy developers and other powerful interests are reclaiming land around Lagos while fishermen are pushed aside.

“Big men are stressing us,” Monday said. “When they come, you have no option. You pack your things and leave.” He now lives in another waterfront community under pressure, Sagbo-Koji.

Dredgers say the work offers rare income in a city with limited opportunities.

“I’m a father of one,” said Joshua Alex, a dredging operator. “This is how I take care of myself.”

He explained how informal dredgers interact with authorities and pay their “dues” to stay in business.

“Marine Police will come, we settle them. NIWA will come, we settle them,” he said, referring to the National Inland Waterways Authority. He said the payments make the work legitimate.

Environmental advocates say such arrangements blur the line between legal and illegal dredging, allowing operators to resume work shortly after enforcement actions.

Lagos State officials, including Gov. Babajide Sanwo-Olu, have repeatedly pledged to clamp down on illegal dredging, especially operations that are blamed for worsening flooding, erosion and other environmental degradation along the coast.

The government says it has shut down sites operating without permits and strengthened monitoring through waterfront and environmental agencies. The Lagos State Ministry of Waterfront Infrastructure Development didn’t respond to questions.

But community leaders say enforcement is inconsistent, pointing to the payments by informal dredgers.

“When the government stops dredging activities today, they get paid, and then they ask them to resume activities,” said the Makoko community leader, Emmanuel.

He accused authorities of prioritizing revenue and private development over the survival of fishing communities, citing land allocations for real estate projects along the waterfront.

“The government has the power, not us,” he said.

Scientific research supports fishermen’s claims about the impacts of dredging in Lagos.

Peer-reviewed studies by Nigerian scholars conducted along the Ajah–Addo-Badore corridor, a major dredging zone east of Makoko, found water turbidity levels far above national safety standards, conditions that disrupt fish feeding, reproduction and migration.

Researchers also documented unstable seabeds and erosion-prone zones beneath dredging sites, and more stable conditions where dredging was absent. In some locations, groundwater samples showed bacterial contamination linked to human waste.

Scientists have warned that dredging reduces the lagoon’s ability to absorb floodwaters, increasing long-term risks for Lagos and its population. Wetlands and shallow lagoon areas act as natural buffers. When they are removed or destabilized, communities become more vulnerable.

Lagos has experienced increasingly severe flooding in recent years, with waterfront and low-lying neighborhoods among the hardest hit.

This story was supported by funding from the Walton Family Foundation. The AP is solely responsible for all content.

Contact AP’s global investigative team at Investigative@ap.org or https://www.ap.org/tips/

Aerial view of sand dredging near Makoko, a fishing settlement across the third mainland bridge, Lagos, Nigeria, on Saturday, Dec. 6, 2025. (AP Photo/Grace Ekpu)

Sand extraction in progress in Lagos waters, Saturday, Dec. 6, 2025. (AP Photo/Grace Ekpu)

Traditional leader of Makoko, Baale Semede Emmanuel stands outside his home in the coastal community of Makoko, Saturday, Dec. 13, 2025, in Lagos Nigeria. (AP Photo/Grace Ekpu)

Fishermen in the lagoon in Lagos, Nigeria, on Saturday, Dec. 6, 2025. (AP Photo/Grace Ekpu)

Worker shovels up freshly extracted sharp sand from a dredging transporter in Ibeshe, Lagos, Nigeria, on Saturday, Dec. 6, 2025. (AP Photo/Grace Ekpu)