The Ace: Antarctica

Advancing to Antarctica
It took three days to get to Antarctica from South Georgia, with a stop in the South Orkney Islands. We saw Pintado nests off to the left of landing at small beach, then pink, pink, pink from the small Adelie penguins. There was a pediatric ward off to right where hungry chicks chased after mom at maddening speed, at least for penguinos. I spent some time drawing the Adelies, finding how difficult it is with a moving target. We spent the afternoon at sea watching huge icebergs, some very blue. Since wild life was the theme of this trip, Fin whales had the right to interrupt our afternoon lectures.

We left early from South Orkneys given a stormy weather forecast of 45+ knot winds. It was a good decision. The crossing was uneventful, no butterflies in the stomach on this passage. Now there was extra time for Antarctica, the real reason for the trip, though I’d become very enthralled with the Falklands and South Georgia. We were seeing more and more icebergs, bergie bits and growlers—very small chunks of ice. Now there were humpback whales in the scenery—fluking and broaching, maybe this is where the term used in sailing came from, or is it the other way around. We were in search of other whales—Minks, Blue, but they alluded us for the most part. We did see orcas, also known as killer whales, but they are not whales. They are in fact porpoises.

Wet landings. That’s what we’d heard about, and what we’d become used to on the northern part of our journey. No one thinks about this when getting out of a Zodiac in warm weather. In near freezing water, one does, especially when the winds and waves are working against you. Being agile helps get from Zodiac to shore quickly, minimizing the chance of getting water over knee high boots. We were trained to scoot to the front of the Zodiac and look back before swinging our legs over the side and working our way ashore. “On my own” was what we were supposed to say when preferring to get out of the Zodiac by ourselves, but this never came out of my mouth as I hopped to shore. Oops, my apologies to the land crew. Sometimes it was too rough to do the landings. After seeing one Zodiac being unloaded from the Polar Star and watching it pitch and surge before the crew heard the call to pick it back up, we knew the Zodiac drivers were calling off a landing for good reason. By now 45-knot winds were becoming commonplace. We missed seeing Heroina Island and Paulet Island because of rough seas.

Teeming Life in Antarctica
Antarctica. How can one really describe it? In some ways, it could have seemed like Minnesota in the Winter along Lake Superior—lots of white, waves crashing boulders along the waterfront, still sometimes, sometimes windy, but the the pink snow (from regurgitated krill), the reconnoitering of penguins, skuas surveying penguin and shag nests, elephant seals along the beach, an occasional leopard seals surfacing close to shore, and of course, icebergs, all mean that Minnesota is far, far away. Looking closely, one would quickly realize that the white was not merely old snow, but glacial rock, yes rock, with a tinge of blue, maybe more, depending upon the age and concentration of the ice. The bluer the ice, the old and denser it is, more like rock. That’s why it takes so long to melt.

Our introduction to Antarctica was Devil’s Island. Hmmm. Maybe it’s a good thing we didn’t land here. We arrived on a beautiful sunny almost windless morning. The temps were around 30 degrees, while we were getting reports that Minnesota had minus 30 degree temps, and minus 60 degree wind chill. We motored in Zodiacs around Devil Island for about five hours, getting great photos of Adelies and icebergs, despite numb toes. It was just too exciting of a day to go inside before it was necessary. Now we were more than anxious to get to the peninsula.

Later that afternoon we finally landed at Brown Bluff on the Antarctic Peninsula. Icebergs had to be pushed away from shore for our landing, then we had to climb around them to get beyond the beach. Here we saw crevice nesting birds—the Snow Petrels uphill, tucked away out of the wind. Below was the Adelie colony, messy as usual with the regurgitated krill, and noisy, with the chicks wanting more and more food as they were growing in size. Gentoos were surfing onto the icebergs along shore, sometimes making expert leaps, and sometimes sliding down the sides of the slippery icebergs back into the water several times before sticking their landing. Several penguins mistook the Zodiacs for the beach, landing in unknown territory—on or in a Zodiac, and probably wondering what was going on when they were then thrown back into the water.

We rerouted our trip to take in Paulet Island as it was a favorite of the crew. Though we’d seen Adelies before, this was the New York City for Adelie Penguins, though they shared some space with Rock Shags, Snow Petrels and a Crabeater Seal. One has to be careful not to confuse the sleeping Rock Shags with penguins. Their coloring is the same—black and white. For penguins this is their disguise when in the water from both above and below. I’m not sure how this disguise works with the Rock Shags. One of our leaders, Ted, usually offered a hike, so today we did a 4 hour hike up to the top of the hill in the snow, hoping it would dissipate so we could take in the view at the top, but sun never really cooperated until we made it all the way down. Oh well, we did get to see Minke Whales and Orcas back at the boat.

At Ciera Cove we cruised around in Zodiacs for five hours in the morning, experiencing brilliant icebergs at close range, and Minke and Humpback whales. Back on board the Polar Star, we had to stop for a pod of humpbacks fluking. They were feeding on a swarm of krill, while we were flashing our cameras at each and every fluke they offered. In the evening, we landed at Cuverville’s Gentoo colony where I finally took videos of the chick chases. We zodiaced afterwards and as we were looking at leopard seal, we saw an arched iceberg collapse, glad that the Zodiac that had just been beside it had moved. Little did we know how close they were on the opposite side. As if this wasn’t enough for an evening at sea, we then saw beautiful fluking of humpback whales before heading back to the Polar Star in the twilight of dusk, around 11 p.m.

Our next stop was Wiencke Island, where we saw a configuration of whale bones, just to make us feel humble in size compared to these giant water mammals, and small Gentoo chicks at yet another Gentoo colony. We then zodiaced to Port Lockroy to see the one and only museum and gift shop in Antarctica. Just outside the front door, nature was taking its course. A skua had managed to snag a Gentoo chick from its nest. Though a local from the store put it back alongside the nest, the mother didn’t seem to acknowledge it, so the skua nabbed it again. It was rather large, so the skua was having difficulty carrying it. With all its squawking, other penguins were now coming to the defense of the young chick, though as soon as the skua moved out of range, the adult penguins started to go about their own business, leaving the chick to fend for itself. It was only a matter of time before the skua won its battle.

We went out later that afternoon in cloudy, snowy conditions—just perfect for a photo workshop. We stayed by the shore, trying to figure out how to get the perfect background. Since these penguins don’t stay in one place long, this was a challenge. We did traipse around the slushy snow, having to cover up our footprints when our feet punctured the snow. This was to prevent the penguins from falling into the holes and not being able to climb out of them. I started walking like a penguin to fill in the holes others had left behind. It can make one feel seasick from the head moving so much from one side to the other.

Lemaire Channel was another day for the Zodiaks with the focus being icebergs and what they might feature artistically, and with wild life. We saw a leopard seal basking in the cool air and a Minke whale far off. We wet-landed at Neko Harbour, where I tried to draw an iceberg. Why I like to challenge myself so much with so little practice at drawing I have no idea, but try I will. After a while though, I packed it in and took a zodiac tour of icebergs and leopard seals.

Our last day, and the weather wasn’t cooperating, not with Beaufort Scale Force 8 winds. We planned for a very early landing on Deception Island but couldn’t land where we wanted to. Instead we went around to the inside of a caldera where a former British station had been demolished by the volcano. There was a steamy black sandy beach. Some have taken steam baths here, but that would have been a little chilly this cloudy, wet morning. I hiked instead to the eye of the needle then walked along the steaming black beach, talking with another passenger about where we would go next, now that we’d managed to step foot on all seven continents. Maybe in eruption from the volcano would have given us some answers, but it remained silent.

Our lasting landing. Chinstrap and Gentoo penguins, elephant seals, Antarctic terns and skua. So much life in this barren land. It was as if all the “locals” purposely gathered together to say goodbye, a farewell salute to send us back to our respective homes. The last of the sweepers were telling us it was time to go. Yes, as on most other landings, the last and final Zodiac for passengers on this voyage was waiting to take us back to the Polar Star for the cruise through the Beagle Channel and Ushuaia. Farewell Antarctica.