Tag Archives: Travel

Farewell, Antarctic Peninsula

Wednesday 28 February 2024 – I have no idea what plan we’re up to, but the briefings that Pippa gives us every evening about the prospects for the following day make me believe that we’re working our way steadily through the alphabet as weather changes and conditions at potential landing sites become clearer.

The original plan for today had been a landing on D’Hainaut Island, where there are the remains of a whaling operation and, goodness me, some penguins, followed by a cruise around Mikkelsen Harbour. For those idiots hardy souls who wanted this, there was also the Polar Plunge – the opportunity to swim in the Antarctic Ocean.  On looking out of the cabin window first thing this morning, it was clear that the luck with the weather which had seen us through the first few days had really deserted us.

Winds were 25 knots.  I’m only passing familiar with the Beaufort wind scale, and I haven’t got Google to look it up for you; but I do know that a 30-knot wind is pretty much gale force 8.  The 25 knots that we did have was sufficient to ensure that the rain lashed more across than down. It was also sufficiently strong that the Zodiac cruise was cancelled. For Jane and me, the decision to have no part of the day’s expeditions was easily and swiftly made; after all, we’d seen a good number of gentoo penguins already and I wasn’t prepared to risk my Nikon in the persisting rain. Coffee in the lounge was a more attractive proposition. We could see the landing area

and even make out some detail of the whaling shed,

and that was good enough for us.  Jane spotted an iceberg with a face on it

and, as we departed D’Hainaut Island, vigorous use of the “clarify” slider on my image processing software revealed that there would have been a great view were it not for the fog.

And (again, courtesy of computer software) we caught what turned out to be our last glimpse of the Antarctic peninsula as we headed north

to exactly what, we weren’t sure, but we had been warned to expect some rougher seas as we went through the Bransfield Strait, which separates the South Shetlands and the Antarctic Peninsula.

During the afternoon, we had a couple of interesting lectures.  One from Meike about Antarctic Krill, the small, shrimp-like creatures which not only form a key link in the food chain, since just about all the local wildlife depend on them, but also operate a significant carbon sink as they feed on algae on the base of sea ice, then sink and deposit carbon on the sea bed in the form of their excretions.

The other was from Pelin, who expertly took us through one of the remarkable rescue stories of the heroic era of Antarctic exploration – the Norrskjöld expedition of 1901-03. This involved three exploration parties who had become separated from each other, each in a different area off the Antarctic Peninsula and state of distress (e.g ship destroyed by ice, being confined to a tent for months during an Antarctic winter, that kind of thing) setting off to try to find each other and, rather improbably, succeeding. Even more incredibly, a rescue ship, which had been dispatched (because the exploration ship hadn’t returned when it should have) with instructions to find them, even more improbably succeeded.  In all, a party of 20 men was saved, with only one death, probably from a chest infection.

After this, everyone eagerly awaited Pippa’s recap which would be the point at which we found out what was on the cards.

It was enlightening to listen to the process that Pippa and the team had gone through.  For example, the first thought was to go to the Antarctic Sound, at the tip of the Peninsula, to view some of what Otto Norrskjöld had seen on his expedition.

But the captain had seen the weather forecast

(hint: red and purple are the highest wind speeds) and said “no”, or more likely “nyet”.  Various other possibilities were discussed, but in all cases the winds were too strong.  And so we took our leave of the Antarctic Peninsula for the last time and headed out on our route towards Elephant Island

and more specifically to Point Wild

so named for reasons I will come to in the next post, but which has great historic and emotional significance for anyone who knows the Shackleton story.

The recap session also featured several short talks. Annelou spoke on the topic of the Antarctic ice, how it varies over the course of a year and how it ages in different ways.

Rose discussed the several versions of “South Pole” there are, starting with the obvious geographic south pole, which is where all the lines of longitude meet (altitude 2835m above sea level, the top 2.7 kilometres of which is ice);

and covering the other four (2 is the magnetic south pole, 3 the geomagnetic pole, whose explanation I couldn’t quite grasp and, of course, can’t easily Google), 4 the pole of inaccessibility (84° S,64° E), which is furthest from all of the coasts, and 5, the ceremonial south pole, where the flags of the 12 original sharing nations were erected but which has now moved with the ice away from the actual geographic south pole (I hope you are keeping up at the back…?).

Joyce discussed the heroic efforts of humpback whales to foil the killing exploits of orcas.  Apparently orcas can take humpback whale calves, and, unsurprisingly, humpbacks take the, erm, hump at this and have developed ways of chasing orcas away; this extends to orca attacks on other species, not just other whales.

The evening ended with an after-dinner presentation. Sasha, in his usual idiosyncratic and droll way, told us how his journey through life led to him being in the Antarctic after five years serving in Pyramiden, the Russian ghost town in the Arctic, via his first journey on a very idiosyncratic aircraft, the Ilyushin 76.

With the increasing pitching and rolling of Hondius indicating that we were in more open water, we headed for bed, with the enticing prospect of Elephant Island and more detail on the Shackleton story awaiting us in the morning.

 

 

Detaille Oriented

Monday 26 February 2024 – The morning dawned somewhat greyer and rather windier than I would frankly have liked.

But the weather was still, equally frankly, a lot more benign than it might have been.  There were two items on the plan today, the first of which was a visit to a disused British research base dating from the 1940s, Base W, on Detaille Island.  From the warmth of our cabin we saw the teams headed out to prepare a landing area

and if you know where to look, you can see the base in the picture above.  There it is, top left. You can see it more clearly below.

Our Orange group was due to do a short Zodiac cruise before making the landing, and we were hosted for that by the very droll Sasha.  The conditions weren’t great – 0°C, a little snowy drizzle in the air and just windy enough to make things a little uncomfortable – but we saw, as ever, some great icescapes

and a reasonably substantial colony of Adelie penguins.

Many of them were milling about by the water’s edge

and Sasha explained that what was going on was a sort of group negotiation about getting into the water. An individual going in might be caught by a passing predator, but if a group could all go in at the same time, individual chances of survival were better; so it was a game of “after you, Claude”, “no, after you, Cecil”.  This groupthink actually resulted in none of them going in whilst we were watching, which is a bit of a shame. One solitary penguin seemed to be trying to tell us something

but we don’t know what, since we don’t speak penguin (I wonder if it’s related to pidgin…?).

After a bit more desultory cruising, we made our landing on the island

and stumbled up a somewhat icy path to the hut that housed the main part of the base.

We had a short history briefing from Pelin as we stood outside the entrance.

She explained a little about the geopolitical games which surrounded the establishment of these research bases, but the idea mainly was to establish territorial rights before some other buggers got in and tried it on.  The first British base was Base A, and so you can work out that Base W was established some time later, sometime in the late 1940s.  It didn’t last long, as a really harsh winter forced an evacuation, which was carried out via a 30-kilometre dog sled pull across sea ice to Base Y (Base W actually had some 20 working dogs – more than the number of personnel – which were housed in separate kennels). The harsh conditions started to destroy the buildings and they have been only relatively recently excavated from the snow which had engulfed them, lovingly restored by volunteers and established as a historic site.  Clearly, as such, it has to be treated with respect, and no more than 12 people are allowed in at any one time.  But one can go in and inside it’s like a time capsule.

After spending time looking around inside the hut, we walked a little up the hillside to take in the overall view, which was spectacular, if somewhat difficult to capture in a single image.

Then we stumbled and slipped our way back down to the landing area

to take a ride back to Hondius. It was by this stage snowing reasonably obviously, and the wind had got up a little more, so we declined the option of a further Zodiac cruise in favour of a hot chocolate and a bit of a sit down.

After lunch, at which we had a really interesting chat with Judy and Knox, a North American couple who had lived and worked in China in the 1990s, the original plan had been to go to Hanusse Bay for a further look-round.  But the prevailing conditions didn’t make that a particularly inviting prospect,

so Pippa and the team decided to start heading back Oop Narth to cross back over the Antarctic Circle and head to our next place instead. It’s not, at this very moment, completely clear where that will be, but I’m sure it will be worth the wait; and in any case, after all the relentless expeditioning of the last days, it was nice to have an afternoon off.

We visited the bridge, which is an oasis of calm

even as quite a lot of attention has to be paid to not bumping into things as we go.

We were also able to pick up the certificates which proved that we’d crossed the Antarctic Circle.

Who knows what tomorrow may bring?  At the moment, not I, but you can be sure that I’ll let you know what actually happened as soon as circumstances permit.

 

Stepping on a Fish

Sunday 25 February 2024­ – I had sort of expected the skipper to put the hammer down again overnight, but he didn’t.  I suppose this might have had to do with the need to steer around icebergs and going ahead full steam probably militates against the necessary manoeuverability, as the skipper of the Titanic found out, of course. Our transit was utterly calm, to the point where I was actually able to practise my balancing by standing on one leg whilst cleaning my teeth. Sorry if this is oversharing, but it’s a normal accompaniment to my morning toilette which hitherto had not been possible on this cruise.

Calm it might have been, but the weather outside hardly looked inviting – cold, misty and, for the first time on this expedition, snowing, slightly but tellingly. Temperatures we were told, stood around -1°C. I tried a photo from the top deck but it was just a sea of grey. Jane managed a nice shot of a passing iceberg with some Adelie penguins on it.

We waved, but they ignored us. Bastards.

The plan for the morning was for a Zodiac cruise – so just get on the RIB and potter about. We were just off a small group of islands called Salmon, Trout, Mackerel and Flounder – the Fish Islands.

To start with, it appeared that what was on offer, photographically speaking, was just some more spectacular Antarctic scenery.

Fortunately, the snow that had been falling cleared up and we got a nice clear view when we came across some Adelie penguins

who were prepared to set themselves up for their close-ups.

While there was a lot of the usual spectacular scenery to gawp at

it gradually became clear that a landing was planned, which had not been on the original schedule.  Some exploratory work had been done and a couple of sites identified as possible landing points.  Our buddy Zodiac and we made ground on Mackerel Island.

where there was a small colony of Adelie penguins.

The backdrop was spectacular

and, after some while with the penguins (giving me the chance for some video of their antics), it was time to leave.

This was another illustration of the possible excitement of expedition cruising, as getting our Zodiac off the rocks it was on was non-trivial and again proved the value of the buddy system among the RIB drivers.  Several passengers from the other Zodiac combined and eventually got us off and away, but some got their boots full of water and one chap actually lost his footing and fell in to the icy waters, which must have been very uncomfortable. Of course we waited whilst the other RIB got clear and then we all hastened back to the ship in increasingly cold winds, thanking our luck that we’d had the opportunities we did.

Once everyone was back on board, the skipper set off southwards, with the objective of reaching the Antarctic Circle, which we did at around 5.30 this afternoon.

Despite fearsome winds, there was a party atmosphere on the bow of the boat, with music, staff in fancy dress and hot chocolate laced with rum and whipped cream.

People were invited to “kiss the fish”.  I don’t know why.

It wasn’t always a popular proposition.

What was popular was getting a photo in a frame especially created by Ursula, one of the scientist guides on the expedition.

After everyone had calmed down a bit, we all went for dinner, but not before Pippa had explained what was likely to happen tomorrow.  Thing is, we’d crossed the Circle at the first attempt, so didn’t need the day set aside for a second go; instead we could go exploring.

So we continue to head South.

Tomorrow, we should, if all goes according to plan, visit a now-defunct British research station at Detaille Island and take a Zodiac cruise around Hanusse Bay.

The weather forecast looks great – very light winds.

I’m daring to think we might have another great day.  Here’s hoping….