Log
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Here is a map of the entire voyage; Ushuaia, Argentina to Antarctica, beyond the Antarctic Circle, South Georgia British Sub-Antarctic territory, The Falkland Islands and return to Ushuaia.
A three week, 4,600 mile epic journey on the National Geographic Explorer expeditionary vessel from February through March 2011 to Antarctica; featuring the South Shetland Islands, Antarctic Peninsula, and travel well south of the Antarctic Circle.
Visits and landings to 11 key areas of interest along the Antarctic mainland and coastal islands.
Subsequent travel to and through 17 visits and landings in South Georgia, (UK Sub-Antarctic Territory), and the Falkland Islands.
Starting and ending in Ushuaia, Tierra del Fuego Patagonia, Argentina.
Tuesday 15 February - Transit Preparing for such a major expedition! Where to begin? I was up all night the night before with last minute preparations and packing. A lot of contingencies to plan for, on a trip so long, and with extreme environmental conditions to contend for. 5.00AM taxi to the airport. Met a supplier friend on the airside, on the way to Shanghai, shared a coffee. Upgrade to Hongkong and through to San Francisco achieved; WooHoo! Unfortunately, San Francisco to DC, and DC to Buenos Aires had no such luck. It's a long, long day and another following night of flying, with only a few hours in SFO airport to break it. Access to showers denied in SFO airport, as I'm on an "upgrade" ticket; despite 1K status United maintains its reputation as world's worst customer service! Overnight flight to Buenos Aires, crammed into coach, in a plane cabin interior that seems as ancient as my first trip to Singapore in 1984!
Wednesday 16 February – In Transit Early morning arrival to Buenos Aires, and fairly effortless taxi transfer to the domestic airport in town: Aeroparque. Extra baggage charges for my 72 kilos of gear only amount to about 75 US dollars, only half of what I had estimated, so seems like my luck in THAT department is holding out. By the time I get checked in and sorted however, it's near enough time to board for the next flight to El Calafate and Ushuaia. No lunch stop at Cabana Las Lilas on this trip. Arrival, finally!, in Ushuaia around 19.30, completing almost 50 hours of continuous flying! A quick drive over to the hotel gets me there in time to check on the historic reenactment presentation at the Maritime Museum. Unfortunately, they have not reached their minimum attendance of 6 persons, so the event is cancelled.
I use the free time to walk the town and shop for additional cold weather gear, as there seems to be some interesting things and prices are reasonable, (I find out later that Ushuaia is a tax-free zone). Most of the shops seem to stay open until 21.00.
The town reminds me of Bogota, but is a bit of a one street phenomenon. Seems very centered around the tourist trade as there are many shops focusing on Antarctic, (read “penguins!”), souvenirs.
Temperature's briskly cool in the evening, say in the high forties Fahrenheit, with sunset around 10PM.
Light dinner at a famous seaman's pub on the waterfront and back to the hotel to sort out the gear for the Antarctic. Good thing I arrived a night early.
Brought far too much stuff, so a trimming down is in order, and separation of the lightweight clothes needed for the last week, when I return to summer in Argentina and spring in California. Luckily I could leave the balance stuff at the hotel for 3 weeks, and pick up on the way back, after the boat portion of the trip.
Don't sleep that much this night, in anticipation of the impending expedition.
Thursday 17 February - Ushuaia The morning is spent locating the arctic boot rental shop, (Jumping Ushuaia!), and doing a bit more shopping for waterproof, warm winter outer pants. Stowed the extra bag at the hotel, checked out and taxied over to the airport again, to meet the group. At the airport, I meet up with about 8 others who have also not started the trip in Santiago, while hanging around waiting for the plane to arrive, bringing in the bulk of the group. We trundle into tour buses for the hour drive to the continent's most southerly post office, a heavily stickered shack on small pier along the shore of small inlet. Picturesque mountains in the background; flightless steamer ducks grazing the grasslands above the beach. Driving a bit further after this stop, we arrive at Lapataia Bay, the launch point for the scenic catamaran lunch cruise of the Beagle Channel. It's a beautiful sunny day, crisply cool, but very pleasant unless out on the deck in high winds. Lunch on the catamaran is with Davina, Jason, Sam and Sandy.
We pass by a small island near the end of the cruise that is covered with black shags and imperial cormorants, black and white birds that look eerily similar to penguins at a distance. A few gulls as well.
Taking the buses back to town, we walk up the main pier and prepare to board the boat, (National Geographic Explorer), and check in. Along the way, we pass a very slick, huge, and modern boat, reputedly owned by Paul Allen, (joint Microsoft founder).
Soon after boarding, we have the mandatory lifeboat safety drill; marshaling in the lounge, with a detailed explanation on deck next to lifeboat number 4. This is followed by a buffet dinner in the dining room, that I share with Sam and Sandy Hagler, (retired management consultants from New York).
The boat is amazing! - very nicely fitted out and comfortably proportioned. The cabin exceeds expectations and should be a nice place to chill out for the next 3 weeks. Settling into the room that evening however, I don't sleep well, still getting used to the "ocean motion" despite the Dramamine I'm taking in anticipation of the impending rough passage through the Drake Channel to Antarctica.
Friday 18 February – At Sea It's a full day at sea today; it seems somehow empty and demoralizing. I'm pretty much useless most of the day, missing several of the early talks and lunch; still suffering badly from jet lag - the 50 hours of flying to get to Ushuaia. We're passing through the Drake Passage, between South America and the tip of Antarctica, but there is none of the rough seas and high winds that we've been warned about. I find out later that this was the smoothest crossing that anyone can remember, and also one of the fastest; we gain a whole extra day due to high tail winds that have pushed us along much more rapidly than expected. Turns out I've missed the introduction to the naturalist expedition staff, (of which there are about 10 different specialists on board!), specific talk on the birds that we will be likely to encounter, and an introductory photography workshop as well. Oh well; . . .
I do manage to attend the session on plate tectonics, but cannot keep my eyes open all the way through.
The mandatory Antarctic landings briefing at the end of the day educates us on the proper protocol and etiquette related to Zodiac use, (the inflatable rafts used to ferry between the ship and rough wet landing points on beaches and ice flows.
Nothing particularly new here, though I do learn that the legendary 5 to 10 minute survival rate before hypothermia kills you, (if you fall into the cold Antarctic waters), is a myth.
Apparently one can survive much longer if you keep your heart rate low!
I've started the seasick pills in earnest, so despite the rolling and pitching, I am pretty much fine, (unless I fall OFF the boat however)!
Dinner with Theresa & Mike Gerutto, (Polish immigrants, now from Long beach), Sandi & Richard Hoover (pilots from Albuquerque), and Rick Hunter, naturalist photographer from Southern California (multiple Antarctic traveler and back to back expeditions this year).
This is the first time we see that ropes have been strung along the corridor leading into the bistro bar and restaurant, so there is something easy to hold on to, stumbling back and forth to meals.
Despite the "smoothness" of the crossing, there is still a fair amount of pitch and roll, particularly with the restaurant being situated right at the bow of the boat. Apparently, this ship has "stabilizers," which project like wings below the water line on either side of the boat. This is supposed to keep the boat from rolling even more.
Fantastic full moon shots over the open sea in the early hours of nightfall!
Early to bed tonight. I find the position of the cabin on the lowest guest occupied deck a real advantage; much less pitching and rolling to deal with as I am near the centre of gravity. Of course, being near the center of the “length” of the ship also helps. I’ve heard from others whose cabins are positioned in the bow, that the pitching is sometime unbearable.
The constant rumbling of the engines whilst we are underway might bother some, but to me, it is a sound one gets accustomed to quickly, comforting, much like the drone of the aircon in more tropical climes.
Saturday 19 February – Antarctic Peninsula We continued the transit of the Drake Passage towards the Shetland Islands throughout the night. Woke up at 4.30, 5.30 and finally 6.00AM after which I just lie in bed for a while pondering. Around 7.00AM noticed a change in the reflected light on the interior wall of my cabin, turned around to look out the window, and was totally shocked. I let out a short involuntary gasp, (we’re here already!), as smack dab in the middle view was a huge rocky island, dusted with picturesque snow drifts on top, for maximum effect. Very dramatic. Very Antarctic. Apparently, we entered the English strait about 7.30AM on the way to land at Half Moon island around 9.00AM. The usual morning PA wake-up call just after 7.30AM today. Wide awake with only a hint of nausea so far – but considering the imminent encounter with the diesel fumes of the zodiacs, I took 2 more Dramamines for good measure. The first landing this morning is a small-ish windblown rocky outcrop called Half Moon Island with mostly Chinstrap penguins, though a few Adelie penguins popped up here and there.
We took a 2 mile hike up and around to the other side. It was our first encounter with penguins of any kind, so exciting, even though the density of the colony was rather low. The daily briefing says there are Antarctic terns and kelp gulls as well, though these are considerably less interesting.
A small unoccupied Argentine base (Camara) was located at the far end of the island, but we did not approach nor enter.
Tom Ritchie, one of the naturalists, gave a beachside lecture centered around a dead penguin skeleton/carcass that he found on the beach, swinging it around for maximum effect! Apparently attacked, killed and eaten by a leopard seal. Some dramatic rocky scenery and ice flows across the island on the far side, but otherwise not much here. Closer to the beach, up a small hill, I inadvertently intercepted a “penguin highway,” and a number of penguins en route started to gather around where I was sitting. Eventually, I had to move to get out of the way, as they were perplexed as to how to get around me.
In the afternoon, we missed the planned landing on Barrientos Island in the Aitcho archipelago due to bad weather, snowing, rougher seas, making it impossible to land and unpleasant to walk around anyway.
The afternoon was spent at sea instead, steaming towards tomorrow's planned landing in Neko Harbour. Many porpoising penguins in the water along the way, and at 6.30PM, a truly astounding sight . . . The ship came up alongside an immense iceberg, looming out of the grey gloom and with snow flurries swirling around it. On a bottommost ledge, almost like an ice "beach," was a whole colony of penguins, clinging on for dear life. Must've been 100 or more. As we watched, the side decks crowded with passengers, scores of penguins jumped off into the water, only to be followed by more torpedoing up out of the water onto the berg to replace the ones that had left. Truly astounding! If only it hadn't have been snowing so fiercely then, the photographs would've been truly amazing.
In the evening, there was a presentation by Paula of Oceanites about her mission to count penguins and assess the health of penguin colonies on the peninsula. Though an Argentinean, she is a graduate student at the University of Maryland. The ship often assists people from NGO's, providing access to spots in Antarctica not normally accessible independently.
The ship continued to plow ever southward through the Gerlache strait this evening and throughout the wee hours of the morning.
Sunday 20 February – Antarctic Peninsula We enter the Errera Channel at 6.30AM. The morning starts with a zodiac cruise through Neko Harbour with the evil purser Elsa as our driver for the morning, who never pauses more than a second or two for anyone to photograph anything, always has the boat pointed the wrong way, & never lets anyone stand up! Nevertheless, her humorless demeanor doesn't deter our group, who still glean maximum pleasure from the fantastic cruising amongst the icebergs & leopard seals populating the bay. After the hour or so cruise, the rest of the morning is spent at the landing point on the rocky beach of Neko Harbour, our first landing on the actual Antarctic mainland! It's a scenic spot with a long hike through the snowfields to the top, and astounding views all around. The hike to the top crosses several "penguin highways," Gentoo penguins trudging up through the snow to their favorite spots. Occasionally, we notice a few chicks chasing their mother around, a technique employed by the parent to discern the stronger of the two. Often, the weaker one is not fed, or as much, and is eventually abandoned. One guy, sitting along the path, in the guano, is approached by a chick, who ends up nuzzling up to him under his jacket for an hour or so.
The hike is long in the bright sunshine and crisp snow, hot by the time I reach the top, but the view from the top is breathtaking. A small rocky outcrop provides a good place to sit and enjoy the view, if vertigo is not an issue, as the drop down the sheer cliffs to the sea below is several hundred feet.
Across a small inlet a large glacier is gradually making its way into the sea, with periodic calving events, preceded by piercing crackling sounds echoing around the bay. A few of the ships' crew manage to trudge up the slope with snowboards, for a brief, but one-of-a-kind "first tracks" descent down the steep slope directly to the sea edge. The two kids on the trip, ages 7 and 10, just slide down on their butts.
Lunch on board the ship after the morning's excursion, was all abuzz with the excitement of the landing.
After lunch, we are briefed on the proper and inappropriate uses of Kayaks and contingent apparatus, like the water sensing alarm, that will automatically summon help should one inadvertently fall into the sea. (Of course, the first time we do go kayaking, someone splashes the device and the rescue zodiac is dispatched on the false alarm)!
In between Neko harbor and our next stop, Cuverville island, we cruise through Paradise Harbor, past Danco island along the Danco coast, scenic islets and bergs all along the way. Fantastic photo opportunities make me feel like never leaving the outside decks for fear of missing something. Needless to say the entire day is blessed with bright sunshine and low winds, making for picture perfect conditions. Many are validating the success of their trip by the number of species, (mainly bird life), they can identify and add to their list. To me, it's just the austere beauty of the icy landscapes that make the journey so worthwhile.
We spend the afternoon in the bay between Cuverville Island and the mainland. Kayaking is on the agenda and I pair up with a retired guy from Washington state: Don Bushell, for an hour or so, tour paddling amongst the bergs. We are warned away from approaching the massive bergs too closely, as they are often likely to roll over, if they become too top heavy, displacing large volumes of water and swamping the unlucky nearby. The Hot Chocolate zodiac is also out and about in the bay, so kayakers get some extra fuel whilst waterborne, complete with a “shot of courage” if so desired! The good weather, sunshine and no wind continue through the afternoon, making for a simple and peaceful commune with the ice.
Afterwards. I join the other groups for a steep hike up a rocky slope on the island itself, for a view of a reasonably large Gentoo penguin colony with nesting mothers and young chicks. Though the penguins nest on piles of rocks that they gather to create their ideal conditions, the surrounding areas are snowy and coloured from bright pink to pea green hues, stained from various types of algae and penguin guano that takes on various colours depending on their diet at the time. (Pink for a primarily Krill based diet; White for fish or squid; Green for the colour of bile from fasting birds that have not been able to eat recently, whilst confined to the nest, raising their chicks).
So many picturesque shots of penguins, nesting with chicks and icebergs in the background, floating around the bay!
That night, we make rapid progress to the south, passing between Booth Island and the mainland of the Antarctic peninsula, through the "Inside Passage" into the narrow Lemaire Channel and Penola strait towards Crystal Sound.
Each night I am totally exhausted; unable to even do simple log entries or view the day's photos. It's lucky if I can manage to stay awake past 9.30PM. Can't even stay awake to read or watch a movie, the days' activities though seemingly simple, are really quite demanding, and by the end, take their toll accordingly. I am still not in the routine of the ship.
Monday 21 February – Antarctic Peninsula At 5.13AM the ship crosses the Antarctic circle at 66.33 degrees south. We continue further south, as far as 67 degrees 12 minutes, to reach "The Gullet," Crystal Cove, where we spend the morning. By far the highlight of the entire trip was our morning excursion by zodiac cruise through and amongst the plentiful icebergs deep into the Crystal Cove. So many, so much variety, and beautiful colour and texture. Though seemingly cloudy at first, bright spots of sun peeking through at regular intervals, and best of all, perfectly still, “glass-like” seas. Add to this a few ice flows with photogenic leopard seals and the morning is perfect. I’d be happy to spend the rest of the trip in this place. After lunch, we cruise back north again, towards Detaille Island, where we visit a former British station hut, (abandoned in 1958), but currently undergoing restoration for historic preservation purposes. The snow was so thick on the upper plateau above the station, each step sunk up to the mid thighs on the short hike across to view the bay on the other side.
A few reckless souls ventured to the edge, unable to see the sheer cliff drop from the edge of this glacier into the sea below. Nesting skuas dive bombed a few people who got too close to the nests of their fledgling chicks.
At the station, a few of the volunteer restoration workers explained their mission to save the existing premises from the elements. Because the station had to be abandoned very rapidly, (they only received notice of a few hours, that they would be able to be rescued by a passing ship, due to an unexpected break in the sea ice), the many items of daily life remain intact throughout the station’s rooms. Bunkroom, Kitchen, Meteorological room, Lounge, etc. A real slice of life from the 50's.
Wind and rain started to pick up after a while and made the following hour or so of zodiac cruising among the icebergs rather cold and wet. Justin our driver provided humorous anecdotes along the way, saying “all is well and good in life, if there is no sideways rain.” We did see some fantastic ice forms however, and repeat performances of the brilliant blue hues buried in several of the bergs, indicating truly pure clear refractive freshwater ice.
Early to bed tonight after an exhilarating, but exhausting day.
Tuesday 22 February – Antarctic Peninsula The morning landing on Petermann Island was dismal. Probably the worst of the trip. Very cold, driving, “sideways rain,” making it impossible to take any of the cameras out for anything more than a nanosecond. Only a short walk to the Gentoo penguin colony, which was not even particularly impressive anyway. Slippery rocks along the coast made for a difficult landing and green stained snow from excessive penguin guano made the appearance even less attractive. I gave up after half an hour and went back to the ship. Many went with me, and most everyone else, shortly thereafter. In the afternoon, the Penola Strait near Booth Island was very different altogether. Though also raining, albeit a bit more lightly, though still cold, it was a great place for zodiac cruising. Known as the Icebergs' Graveyard, it's a semi protected bay known for trapping drifting icebergs, that come into it on currents, but can’t escape.
Cruising in the zodiac amongst some of these truly immense bergs was breathtaking, second only to the cruise in the Crystal Cove the day before.
In the late afternoon, we passed by Port Lockroy, another British station, albeit an active one, and the official post office point for Antarctica.
A crew member took our mail across in a zodiac, with the promise that the next British vessel to call there would carry the mail to England, for onward world delivery, in an average of 4 to 6 weeks time.
Some more fantastic bergs as we entered the Gerlache Strait in the early evening, followed by fantastic shots of the waning moon, icebergs and glaciated cliff sides of the narrow passage.
Still not many stars however, as the sky remained consistently overcast.
Wednesday 23 February – Deception Island and At Sea After cruising through the early hours of the morning, we reach Deception Island around 8.30AM. The entire morning is spent on the island, which is the remnants of an ancient volcano, (a small portion of the rim has collapsed, to allow entry into the flooded bay, the inner caldera of the former volcano. It's incredibly scenic, with an abandoned whaling station on shore, a bit of the hillside blown out further on, creating a picturesque natural feature called "Neptune's Window." A nice long hike along the beach to this point is punctuated with stops at abandoned wooden boats high up on shore. These were formerly used to keep drinking water offshore. Further along the cinder beach are piles of whale bones, seals, and a lone lost chinstrap penguin systematically being attacked by skuas, who eventually do succeed in killing it. Even an abandoned hanger for a former floatplane that was used to service/supply the research stations located here in the 60's before having to be hastily abandoned when the volcano last erupted in the 1967.
At sea for the rest of the afternoon, which was thoughtfully filled with a photography workshop.
Informal instruction to about 50 of us on white balance, aperture, exposure compensation, etc.
Later in the afternoon, we heard a presentation from the naturalist Tom Ritchie called "Ice, What's it Good For." Talked about the way ice forms and contributes to the eco systems of the Southern Ocean.
Thursday 24 February – At Sea Spent the whole day at sea with no landings today. Early morning we did a brief drive by of Elephant Island, which was all socked in with fog for the most part. Hard to see how the men from Shackleton's failed Antarctic expedition could have possible stayed on the tiny beach for so many months awaiting rescue. This, unfortunately, is it's only real claim to fame. A small Chilean monument located there commemorates their hardship and the accomplishment of their rescue. Most of the day is spent in pretty rough seas, pitching and rolling the boat all over. Was unable to eat much breakfast, forgot to take sea sickness pills in time, felt very queasy. It seems particularly bad in the dining room, where at the front, the boat was pitching into each wave with wild force! The rest of the day was very lethargic, typical boring “at sea” feeling. Slept through most of naturalist/historian Eduardo Shaw's morning talk on Shackleton's voyage. Also slept through much of the rest of the day as well.
Spent the late afternoon hours watching the film on the ill-fated Shackleton's voyage and reading Lonely Planet, about the other Antarctic and sub-Antarctic islands.
At 5.00PM there is an uninspired talk from Tim Laman on the “pioneers of Antarctic photography;” good subject but unfortunately poor delivery.
Forgot to maintain my dose of sea sickness pills again, so quickly downed some at 6.00PM – hopefully they will take effect before dinner at 7.15PM.
The day's recap (recap what?) briefing was at 6.15PM from "good morning good morning" Lisa Trotter, though as expected, nothing to recap, garnered little interest from most.
Stormy dinner seas as usual, so had to excuse myself from dinner with Michel, Anne, and Harriet early.
Friday 25 February – At Sea This day is still at sea all day again. Very depressing and boring. I find myself missing the ice, light, and sculptural interest of Antarctica. 10.00AM mandatory briefing on South Georgia, sanctioned by the South Georgia government. 3.00PM presentation by David Stephens "Antarctica and the Outside World" - the effect the continent has on other aspects of the planet and vice versa. 5.00PM presentation and film by Time Severin on the "Sinbad Voyage." A historical re-enactment of mythical Sinbad's voyage form Muscat to China, chronicling the building of the boat, tribulations along the way etc. Not very different from the previous Brendon Voyage, in spirit and limited entertainment value.
The intervening periods are filled with catching up on the log, reading and napping.
Fun slide show just before dinner. Collection of everyone's best three photos from the previous days, compiled into one continuous show. Nice to see some truly impressive shots and see how one's own hold up to the competition.
Caught up on some photo sorting and logging.
Ended up going to bed around midnight.
Saturday 26 February – South Georgia Still at sea, we started the morning just after breakfast with a 10.00AM talk by Tom Ritchie about pinipeds (seals), (eared and earless), though even after this, I still cannot keep their various differences straight. South Georgia comes into view about 10.30AM, snow crested peaks with light fog drifting around. Seems that we can see up almost the entire length of it, from south to north. By mid morning, we reached our first point in South Georgia and entered Drygalski Fjord. A long, narrow inlet, lined with steep high mountains on either side, and at the very end - an impressive glacier rising up into the summit far beyond. The leading face of the glacier abutting the water was perfectly vertical, half a mile long/wide and full of dark blue cracks. A few small calving events happened while the captain brought the bow of the boat ever closer, but very unpredictable, so hard to catch on film.
Some playful dolphins, seals and sea birds in the water. Along the way, other glaciers lining the mountain slopes on either side, some reaching the water and some not, creating a series of small waterfalls cascading down to the sea.
Beautiful light here; contrasted with the starkness of rock, mountainous scale, and craggy peaks, made for some impressive views. Continuing fantastic weather as well. Bright sunshine, moderate temperatures, etc.
Just "around the corner," in the afternoon, we pulled into Cooper Bay for an hour or so of zodiac cruising. Supposedly able to see a lot of Macaroni penguins, but the sea was choppy and zodiac driver Jen is not very attuned to photographers' needs, so didn't get much of anything here. A lot of seal pups though. They were clambering all over the rocks, swimming out to and around the zodiac, very playful.
Had a restless night of intense dreams tonight, though the sea was calm and weather was fine.
Sunday 27 February – South Georgia We spend the morning at St Andrew's Bay, our first encounter with a King penguin colony; the largest on South Georgia and reputedly one of the largest in the world, (100,000 pairs). I abstain from the 5.30AM “sunrise landing” as it appears too foggy to be of much use. I go ashore around 8.30AM instead. The quantity is truly astounding. Though we cannot enter the depths of the colony, which stretch for miles up the hillside in between glaciers, we pass through countless pairs all along the beach on the way up to a small hillock for a view over the entire expanse. There are several chicks in varying stages of development here. One, with complete adult feathers except for a topknot of brown “chick fur” is comical looking. Looking closely, other stationery adults are concealing eggs yet to be hatched within the small bump at the bottom of their fronts above their legs. Others have small, newly hatched chicks protected within, who emerge periodically to scream for food. A few skuas patrol the area harassing individual penguins periodically, but primarily this place is dominated by the penguins themselves
Though we don't really see any elephant seals, the beach is supposed to be known for them. Appears we have just missed the majority of them molting for the season; (they’ve already gone out to sea). There aren't even very many fur seals in evidence, as is the usual case on most other beaches that we would visit on the trip.
Most of us are just aimlessly walking around, or sitting on the hillock, taking it all in. It's an amazing experience; very difficult to describe. Not just visual, but noisy, smelly and sometimes, even a stray “touch” or slap of flipper as the penguins waddle by.
Walking along the beach on the way back, I inadvertently crossed the path of a lone mature fur seal, who took umbrage and charged me. Caught off guard, I stumbled backwards and managed to trample a penguin, hearing the dull thud and leaden weight against my lower legs! Would've been great to catch THAT on film, but no one managed it, as far as I know.
Of course, it’s impossible to identify the "victim” afterwards as well, with penguins EVERYWHERE, it’s a bit of a “Where’s Wally” situation!
In the afternoon, we sail over to Godhul, for a hike into the backlands of this peninsula and a view of fur seals and Gentoo penguins. The landscape here is different from any previously encountered. No snow, tussock grass thinning out to rock on the upper reaches.
We get the first real experience with Tussock grass. Growing in clumps up the steep hillsides, only a narrow path, (like a ravine), is negotiable between clumps. Growing in circumferential tufts on top of itself, it can sometimes reach up to nine feet tall.
Walking up the hill through the rocky ravine, amongst these tufts, feels like an ambush waiting to happen, particularly since we have our first real aggressive seal encounters here.
Traveling too close for THEIR “very territorial” comfort, seals (mothers and pups), nesting atop these tussock tufts, take turns growling and swiping at us as we pass along.
As we reach the upper slopes, where the tussock thins out, one even chases us for a little while, uphill!, along the short grassy verge.
It's extremely windy as we crest the top of the slope and catch the view to the freshwater lake beyond. Higher mountains beyond present snowcapped, glaciated peaks and slopes, with period rubble slides littering the otherwise green meadowlands.
Herds of reindeer gallop in the distance and in the far distance there is a small Gentoo penguin colony that the other hikers have gone to see, but is not included on our “longer hike” itinerary. A good talk along the way by Jason Kelley, our geologist centric hike leader.
Coming back down to the bottom wet landing site, I spend some time just hanging out on the beach in front of a small pool where fur seal pups are playing and mock fighting. Some abandoned whaling and sealing apparatus here as well.
Early to bed after an exhausting and fully stimulating day.
Monday 28 February – South Georgia The day starts early for many, who wish to re-enact the last leg of Shackleton's famous hike across the mountainous ridge line of South Georgia to Stromness Harbour. I pass on this early excursion and elect to take the long hike with others from Stromness harbour itself to the waterfall at the back of a long valley, where the earlier hikers will emerge. Led by Tom Ritchie, we set off, in what seems an idyllic setting of a long flat valley, serpentine streambed passing down through it to the beach, and periodic hillocks with picturesquely positioned herds of reindeer atop them. Pausing for many photos of this beautific setting, the group soon gets stretched out, with Tom and most of the others far ahead of all but three of us stragglers. Soon we come across an extremely aggressive fur seal: large, sharp toothed and bloody mouthed, who refused to be dissuaded from his/her mission to attack us. Going after each of us successively, neither sticks, nor shouting nor clanging rocks in front of its nose would do any good. We ended up spending the next 20 minutes trying to fend it off, with our calls for help to the rest of our hiking party far ahead, going totally unheeded.
I was the last to have to deal with this beast individually. It chased me across the stream twice, came to within 6 inches of me and constantly lunged forward so many times that I though sure I would be bitten. Holding hands above my head, clanging rocks together, shouting, nothing would stop it. I even got blisters on my hands from so much rock banging. Every step backward was met with a further lunge forward from it to match me. It was the most frightening moment in my life.
It continued for so long that I was consciously thinking, well, I'm going to be bitten, but what do I do then? Continue to let it bite me? Run? Fight back, what? (We'd been told previously that seals can "run" up to 35 miles a hour!) Until then, I couldn't imagine in being such a hopeless situation. I was extremely lucky this time. Eventually it seemed to be a bit distracted by the others and I was able to inch backwards bit by bit.
I spent the rest of the hike to the waterfall at the end of the valley in a state of shock. Such a narrow escape. When the three of us told our hike leader Tom Ritchie about it afterwards, he dismissed it cavalierly, saying that you just have to do the usual things to deal with them, not appreciative that this was not a usual case at all.
There was something seriously wrong with this seal.
Tom further palmed it off by recounting a story to the rest of the group of a "real seal attack" where one of the guides slipped while launching a zodiac and his torso was ripped to shreds by an enraged bull seal. Torn muscles, part of his lung exposed, etc. The three of us felt very angry.
We learned later that the same seal had attacked another group and cornered them with two other “seal accomplices” for 15 minutes. One person fell down and had their jacket's hood torn off by the seal; again with none of the usual abatement treatments working. It was from this point that the seals ceased to become "cute" and I became extremely wary of all future encounters. I can only imagine how bad it would be a few weeks later, when the next trip comes through this locale, and these same seals are so much bigger, and even more aggressive.
Other than that, the waterfall was only of so-so interest; though it was a nice bright sunny day for a hike. The early morning hikers coming back from their Shackleton walk over the ridge were hot and tired, but generally exhilarated from the climb, albeit uncomfortable at having to do it in wellington boots!
The remains of a whaling station in the distance along the beach appeared picturesque in its tumbledown state, but could not be approached any closer than 200 meters, due to potential hazards of loose debris, (airborne corrugated zinc sheets!), flying in the wind and asbestos particles in the air.
Back in the zodiacs to rejoin the ship and sailed off around the bend to Grytviken, the defacto "capital" of South Georgia, and station home to about 8 permanent staff. The small modern buildings comprising these administrative facilities were positioned at the entrance to the harbour. Their role is primarily to check in boats operating in South Georgia waters, (both tourism and fishing), for whom they issue landing use and fishing licenses. This is the primary source of income, for which they claim to use most of against the costs for protection and preservation undertakings.
Further in, at the head of this small bay are the remains of a once large whaling station, the largest in South Georgia and indeed the South Atlantic in its day. It's been partially restored, so quite interesting to walk around the husks of decaying buildings, with some explanatory plaques here and there. A small six room museum is operated by the wives of the station staff and provides a good overview of what life must have been like in the station during its heyday.
A chance to buy t-shirts and stamps here from the somewhat limited stocks, but nevertheless appreciated in this trip of nary ANY retail opportunities.
Took a walk around/amongst the whaling apparatus and into the old church, so picturesquely sited just in line with the sun setting behind the mountains beyond. Maureen was in the choir balcony and rang out the bells, eerily echoing against the mountain sides fringing the three sides of this small bay/plain.
Another 15 minute walk to the far side of the bay to visit the small fenced in cemetery where Shackleton's grave is located. Gathering with the rest of our shipmates here for a celebratory whisky toast to "the Boss," (Shackleton, as he was called in his time), provided by Patrik (the ship's Hotel Manager), and to reflect on the hardship of these early peoples and the whales that they killed.
We saw the helicopters come in to land that were just starting the 'rat eradication' program on some of the outlying islands, in order to allow native bird species, (South Georgian Pipit), to repopulate.
Back to the ship, where some of the station staff joined us for dinner and the gift shop lady, also the post mistress was on hand for convenient stamp buying and post card sending. One of the station staff gave us a talk on the importance of the South Georgian conservation efforts. But by the end of it, it felt more like a sales pitch than anything, and many of us felt that a seal eradication program, (instead of rats), might be more useful on some of the islands where they were clearly becoming out of control, in some cases threatening the albatross nesting populations.
It becomes increasingly apparent to me, that “where and when” to “draw the line” is a very subjective matter.
Tuesday 1 March – South Georgia Early start after a sleepless night in anticipation of the 5.00AM wake up call. 5.45AM zodiac crossing to the Salisbury Plain, wet landing at another very large King Penguin rookery, (70-100,000 pairs). Glad to have made the effort for this early morning visit, as the sunrise from behind the distant mountains was fantastic. Thousands of penguins silhouetted in the foreground; truly memorable. Gazillions of great penguin shots here, from the level rocky beach with distant snow capped mountains in the background. A muddy patch in between the rocky beach and a large grassy area provided for some humor, as penguins who emerged "tar covered" - glossy black from head to toe. Didn't seem to even phase them though. A few fur seals and reindeer in the grassy verge beyond, completed a picture of unusual juxtaposition and the beauty of this serene co-existence. The early morning light made all the difference to this day, and by the time these initial 2 hours were over, the sky had grayed out again and the moment lost.
Back to the ship for breakfast and then out on a zodiac cruise in the Bay of Isles. This was underwhelming, other than the shots from the zodiac back towards the beach, to catch hundreds of King penguins splashing about in the surf, entering/leaving and/or swimming in the water. There were some interesting kelp fields, and we did see the overly-famous Pipit, South Georgia's poster bird for resurrection, (after the rat eradication program's success of course)! Again, underwhelming, unless you’re a serious birder I suppose.
In the afternoon, we zodiaced over to Prion Island, very near to our same anchorage. This island is famous for its Wandering Albatross breeding grounds, and had recently installed a boardwalk, to facilitate access to the nests, minimizing disruption and disturbance. Unfortunately, as we would notice more and more everywhere, the island is in the process of being overrun by fur seals, who line the sides of the boardwalk and swipe at passersby from their tussock perches. More curious and/or aggressive specimens, plomp right down onto the boardwalk itself and make passage tedious if not impossible!
One of the naturalists told us that these seals used to only come a little ways up the hillsides, on top of which the Albatrosses nest, but that now, they had reached the top and are totally dominating the slopes, so much so that we noticed a small fur seal pup attempting to badger an Albatross peacefully sitting on its nest at the very top of the hillock/boardwalk.
In any event, MOST of the nesting and/or courting albatrosses were situated quite a long ways away from the end of the boardwalk in a level field beyond. This delimited the usefulness of the boardwalk quite substantially. It would have been better planned, for the boardwalk to cross the saddle of the island entirely, enabling more effective and alternative access . . .
Some picturesque nesting Gentoo penguins on the beach below; each sitting on an individual tussock grass clump, molting immense quantities of fluffy down, like a character right out of Dr Seuss.
We ended the day with a nice extended zodiac ride around the bay, searching for the elusive Pipit, spotting many rambunctious seals, and having a well timed stop at the "Grogg Zodiac," thoughtfully prepared for thirsty zodiac cruisers out in the bay on this cold and rainy afternoon.
We learn at the recap briefing that today is the 10th anniversary of a previous ship's (Endeavour), encounter with a "rogue wave" in the waters between the Falkland Islands and the mainland.
Apparently, a 110 foot wave came out of nowhere at 5.00 in morning and almost swamped the ship, blowing out windows on the bridge and a lot of the electronic equipment.
We adjourn to dinner apprehensively . . .
Wednesday 2 March – South Georgia The morning starts at Elsehul Bay. The weather is foul, rainy and foggy, zero visibility. Thankfully, my Zodiac group is the last to go out, (11.00AM), so by that time the weather has cleared into a nice bright sunny day. It’s our first encounter with macaroni penguins here, in a small inlet off the main bay. They're all stumbling down the slope from their high rocky nests, to jump off a small cliff into the water below. A lot of adolescent chicks are here as well, discernable by their distinctive lack of "macaroni" head feathers. The remainder of the zodiac cruise that morning covers a few seal beaches, one with a large elephant seal, searching for albatross nests, and lots of various petrels fling around. We learn from the naturalist Tom Ritchie that "petrels" are named for Peter from the Bible, as they appear to be walking on water. The afternoon takes us to Prince Olav harbour, a scenic little inlet with a few small islands scattered around the bay. A relatively large, but abandoned, whaling station dominates the center of the scene, together with a semi-swamped rusty whaling vessel off to the side.
A kayak excursion amongst these picturesque remains claims the rest of the afternoon, exploring the ship wreck, and then just floating in the middle of the harbour, chilling out to iPod music.
This is followed by a short landing and hike up the hill for a scenic view of the entire harbour and the ruins of the whaling station below. The usual few ornery seals to contend with on the path up through the tussock grass, but nothing as bad as the previous close encounter.
An invitation to dinner in the Chart Room arrives, quests of Karen Copeland and Steve Gould. It's Filipino night, so the food is good, and assisted by plentiful champagne and malbec.
Sally, Grace, Derek, Janet, Fred, Steve and Karen comprise the table; whilst the second table is hosted by Tim Severin and his wife/girlfriend?
As usual, no one has the stamina to continue at the bar, so it's an early night to bed.
Thursday 3 March – South Georgia Early morning wake-up call (5.15) to go for a sunrise landing on the beach at Right Whale Bay. Skipped it and slept in, as one look out the window revealed a fog bank so dense, that nothing was visible. Appeared to be raining as well, so went back to bed in the hopes that the weather would clear up by the last landing time at 11.00AM. Had a late breakfast at 9.00AM, then sorted some photos and trimmed some video before going ashore at 11.00AM. Another large king penguin colony, (though not quite as large as the previous two), but still enough to climb up most of the hillside as far as the eye could see. Weather had cleared up a bit, but still light drizzling rain, so soon all three cameras were soaked; not to mention dropping the video in the wet sand as well! Spent most of the 2 hours at the site lying in the sand on the beach attracting penguins and seal pups to come up and nibble at my boots. Got quite a few good "beak shots" on both stills and video as a result, until the tide started coming in and soaking me thoroughly.
Heard there was a seal skeleton graveyard further up the beach towards the densest portion of the colony, but didn't seem worth it to battle the “guard mother seals” along the way.
After lunch, we were informed that we'd be "scenic cruising" through the Willis islands. A trip to chill out on the Observation deck revealed completely fogged in conditions still, so not much to see here.
Miraculously, the weather cleared up just in time for our entry to a semi-concealed cove in the islands, where a large macaroni penguin colony clambered up the steep slopes of the island. Macaronis in the water everywhere as well, and lots of sea birds, albatrosses, etc, in the air.
Seaborne conditions still a bit too rolling to get any good distance shots of targets as small as penguins, but I tried nevertheless. As usual, the stench blown in from colonies as large as this was overpowering!
More video trimming in the afternoon, until Tim Severin's presentation on the Jason & the Argonauts voyage at 17.00. This was interrupted about quarter to five, when whales were sited and we all ran out to get cameras.
The bridge was packed and everyone a little testy, angling to get the best shots out the windows. By some miracle, I managed to snag a shot through the window of a large whale porpoising upside down off the port bow.
Back to the Lounge for Recap, where we got to see some amazing underwater footage from the camera team. Dinner with Tonna & Gerry Glass, Gina Heal & Mike Taylor. Turned out to be Tonna & Gerry's 32nd wedding anniversary, so we all got free cake!
Stopped by the Bistro Bar for a drink with Mike & Theresa, who regaled me with tales of Mammoth Lakes, (13,000 feet!; - really?), amongst others.
More photo sorting before going to bed around 1.00AM. Then rocking & rolling all night long to the ocean motion of the ship. This was the last night of black out conditions imposed by South Georgia.
Friday 4 March – At Sea The boat continues to travel against the prevailing current towards the Falklands, on this, day two of three. I slept in until 9.30 or so on this bright sunny morning, caught the last of brunch today around 11.00AM; no lunch today. Ship continues to rock and pitch in the waves. Late morning and afternoon spent updating the Log, sorting photos and video. Camped out in the Observation room on the top deck, where most were asleep in the comfy leather library chairs, but periodically someone would site a whale. It really is a beautiful room; full width glass on both sides, bright and airy. The only disadvantage of course is that it runs along the very top of the ship, so each pitch or roll is accentuated exponentially!