Monday, 12th February:
After breakfast, we pass through the Lemaire Channel. This is 7 miles long and less than a mile wide at its narrowest point. Almost all the passengers come on deck to photograph the tall ice-covered cliffs ranging up on each side. We stop near Pleneau Island for a Zodiac trip. I say 'stop' because the water is too deep to anchor, so the ship holds position by gentle manoevring to allow the Zodiacs to load up and get away.
The bay is full of fantastical floating ice sculptures, all tinged with the etherial blue coloration. The largest stand 40 or 50 feet out of the water and everyone seems to feel a sense of awe. Remember, we're on the West side of the Antarctic Peninsula facing the South Atlantic and there's no permanent iceshelf here, although this bay will be frozen over in a few weeks. The ice sculptures we are admiring originally broke away from the iceshelf on the East side of the Peninsula in the Weddell Sea. Currents then carried the ice around to where we now see them. The summer sun starts the melting process and wind and tide carve the strange shapes. As mass is lost, the floating ice may become unstable and turn over.The process then continues, shaping a different part of the ice.
In a couple of places, we find seals basking on suitable flat portions of the sculptures. The flat place on the first sculpture must be 8 feet above the sea, with no easy access from the water. Renee, the excellent Zodiac driver, explains that seals swim upwards at high speed, launch themselves from the water and flop onto the flat place. Amazing! The second group of basking seals only had about a two foot 'jump' to reach their flat place. Here, the Zodiac 'nuzzles' the ice-sculpture, so that we are very close to the seals, who remain unconcerned. Renee admitted that the Antarctic can become an obsession for which there is no cure, only treatment (keep going back). He himself has worked in the Antarctic for 30 years.
In the afternoon, we make a Zodiac landing on Peterman Island. At 65 degrees South, this is the Southern limit of our trip so, as you can see, we are still some way North of the Antarctic Circle and a very long way from the Pole. We have looked at only the 'Northern reaches' of the Antarctic Peninsula. And yet, we have experienced so many wonders!
There are the usual Gentoo colonies around us: this is about as far South as they breed. Adelie penguins are also found here - the only Adelie colony we've seen. Steep, black mountains face us across the bay. Much of the ice has gone from the steeper sections and has re-frozen near the water, to thaw and collapse into the sea by stages, until the winter brings ice and snow to re-start the cycle. We walk across the rocks to find a large private yacht moored offshore. Somebody from the yacht is exploring a small, round bay with an inflatable. Beyond the round bay stands an abandoned Argentinian refuge hut. In addition to a number of birds as yet unidentified by me, there are many Antarctic Shag, a type of cormorant, which appear to live in harmony with the Gentoo. An exciting Zodiac ride across a fairly active sea returns us to the ship. We have three hours to relax as the ship moves North, passing through the Lemaire Channel again, to reach Port Lockroy.
Just after 7.00pm the Zodiac drops my party off at a rocky landing near the inevitable Gentoo colony. It's a lot cooler, it's raining intermittently and we've an hour here. My initial thoughtof 'I don't want to do this' is quickly forgotten in fascination watching the Gentoo behaviour. One juvenile is quite persistent in checking out the food value of my gumboots, the straps on my lifejacket and my finger (it doesn't hurt), before wandering off to try elsewhere.The Zodiac transfers me (just me, on this trip) to Port Lockroy post office. This is the base established by the British after the second world war for radio propagation research and abandoned in 1962.
In 1996, the wooden huts were restored to the 1962 condition as 'Historic Site and Monument No. 61' and it is now looked after by people from the Antarctic Heritage Trust (see website). There's a souvenir shop, which lets you send postcards, and a wonderful evocation of the original base with kitchen, store room, radio room, lounge and research room lovingly restored. The main equipment used for radio research was called 'The Beastie' and there's one on show, put back together under the guidance of one of the original base commanders. A splendid effort and it was with some reluctance that I joined the last Zodiac back to the ship to end an exhilarating, if exhausting, day.
Tuesday, 13th February:
This morning, we go back to Neko Bay and, this time, we are able to make a landing. It's raining, but not too cold and the rain becomes intermittent later. We land on a shingle beach and walk around a small headland into an exquisite, proected bay. As we proceed, the shingle turns to sand, with multi-hued granite rocks. There are a few jet-black rocks.There are Gentoo everywhere, not just near the beach. Colonies can be some distance away atop quite difficult hills accessed over ice or rock. What at first sight appears an ungainly, waddling locomotion is, in fact, well-adapted to the areas where penguins live part of their lives. Once you compare the antics of the human visitors making the same climbs, the Gentoo appear almost elegant. They only come to land for breeding and when very young, otherwise they are 'pelagic' - they live at sea. Penguins are supremely efficient in sea-going mode.
The beach at Neko Bay is strewn with lumps of ice beached by the tide, anything up to 8 foot cube and still frozen hard. On the other side of the bay, we face cliffs with mountains behind receding into the mist-obscured distance. The front of the cliffs are ice, 20 to 50 feet thick,slowly tearing itself apart after the summer sun. Cracks and fissures appear in the ice, always tinged with the strange blue light. The majority of the high land is still ice, but there are large areas where the ice has completely detached, exposing the dark rock below.
There is the occasional cry of a seabird, the sussuration as the tide gently laps at the shore and the distant rumble as ice falls somewhere but otherwise all is quiet and, for a while, all the visitors stand in wonder at the spectacle. The more adventurous climb to quite a height over the ice, but I'm content to go just to the top of the headland for different views and sight of our waiting ship. The ice has numerous tiny, informal streams leading the melt water downhill. Either side of these streams, the ice has softened to slush and this offers the safest footing for gumboots. We return to the ship for lunch whilst the ship moves to Dallman Bay, a known good spot for whale-spotting.
I watch from the wheelhouse with a few others. The wheelhouse has access to an open bridge deck with good views all round which is ideal. It's raining quite hard now and getting cold, so it's handy to be able to duck back into the wheelhouse for a bit of shelter. A pair of humpback whales is spotted, so we alter course to get closer and then sit and wait. The whales perform, swimming up and down a couple of hundred feet off the boat. We all take our photographs, congratulate ourselves and relax."Ballenos!" cries the smiling helmsman and, once again, we set off for the general direction of the sighting and wait.
And then follows an incredible close encounter with a pair of humpbacks as they surface right alongside the ship and, for about half an hour, stay with us as we hold station. They swim alongside, disappear, then re-appear venting spray. The water is clear enough to see their huge bodies gracefully moving just under the surface. Then, they disappear, to surface moments later on the other side of the vessel. They repeat this trick a number of times. On the various decks, passengers can be seen running from side to side of the ship. The whales show us their nobbly heads, occasionally flick their bifurcated tails, or turn on their side to expose a massive dorsal fin. Their diet is more or less exclusively tiny krill. On a number of occasions, they dive and defecate krill residue - a reddish-pink slurry. Passengers and staff are breathless with excitement. Struggling to take photographs of this aquatic ballet, I hear myself gasping "Oh, my God!", in sheer awe. Standing next to me, the Captain, veteran of 120 Antarctic journeys, is crying "I don't believe it!". These amazing mammals, the weight of an articulated lorry, seem so benign and, somehow, so knowing. They are highly social with a highly-developed brain structure (weighing 4 to 8 kilos) associated with high intelligence. Whilst one must not anthropomorphise - they're whales, not people - it's hard not to conclude that they knew we were there and chose to associate with us for mutual amusement. We all feel privileged to have been part of the experience.
