Ship's Log

From the National Geographic Endeavor in Antarctica Wednesday, February 01, 2006 Drake Passage We awoke this morning having left Ushuaia and the Americas in our wake sometime during the night, and for some of us, the somewhat surprising reality of just where we were finally began to sink into our minds. As far as the eye could see in every direction lay only the unbroken horizon of the open ocean…not just any ocean either, mind you, but the notoriously fickle Southern Ocean. We were obviously glad for the calm seas and light winds that allowed the ship to make good speed throughout the day. After all, we didn’t come all this way for a stretch of open water. We came for Antarctica. Still, the Drake Passage must be crossed along the way, and for much of the year its fearsome reputation is more than warranted. The astral summer, however, does offer some reprieve and a modicum of stability to the local weather systems which gives travelers like us a great window of opportunity to visit one of the world’s great, perhaps even greatest, wildernesses. Throughout the day, we occupied our time by familiarizing ourselves with the ship and its many comforts; by catching up on some much needed sleep and rest from the long travel days; and by getting acquainted with each other and the ship’s expedition team. Since we plan on being as active as possible once we actually reach the Antarctic peninsula, these days at sea are a wonderful opportunity for the naturalists to explore some of the many fascinating aspects of our voyage in depth; a sort of head start on the sights ahead. Today we were introduced to the magnificent seabirds that are whirling about the ship and making their living out here in the pelagic zone. Later in the afternoon, we gathered once more for a primer on the pinnipeds, or seals, we hope to see in the upcoming days. And finally, Ian Bullock waded into the topic of the local wave, wind, and weather systems that play such an integral role in defining the white continent and its wildlife. All in all it was a very productive, yet relaxing day here on board the National Geographic Endeavour. And by the time our bellies were full and the conversations had grown quiet, we found ourselves once more looking out at the vast expanse of sea; this time not with surprise, but instead with longing and anticipation. The next time we sight land, it will be Antarctic land. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From the National Geographic Endeavor in Antarctica Thursday, February 02, 2006 Point Wild, Elephant Island The seas were relatively calm throughout the night, but we did experience a very gentle, slow rolling motion as the Endeavour continued to make her way towards Elephant Island. Trip, our Expedition Leader, made a wake up call in time for us to have breakfast before National Geographic’s Roff Smith gave his presentation on Sir Ernest Shackleton’s Endurance Expedition. As the morning progressed, the Drake began to remind us, albeit gently, that it has a fearsome reputation. So, in order to ensure our comfort, the mandatory IAATO (International Association for Antarctic Tour Operators) briefing was postponed until we reached the shelter of Elephant Island. During the briefing, we learnt how to conduct ourselves as tourists in the Antarctic in such a way that the beauty of these destinations is not compromised by our presence. In the meantime, we attended a very informative talk by Mike Polito and Matt Drennan on the research they are doing for Oceanites, a non-profit organization that is conducting an Antarctic site inventory. Shortly after lunch, we caught our first glimpse of land – we were still 18 miles away when Trip announced that there was ‘Land Ahoy.’ We came out on to the open decks and watched as we approached the island that was home to some of Shackleton’s men for over 4 months. It was windy but sunny, and by the time we reached our anchorage, we could actually see the peaks of the mountains beyond the glaciers. Our destination was Point Wild as it was here that the adventures and calamities of Shackleton’s Endurance Expedition had their dénouement. Shackleton’s dreams of making the first trans-Antarctic crossing were dashed when his ship Endurance was beset by ice in the Weddell Sea on January 18th 1915. The men did not reach the relative safety of Point Wild until April 1916. Shackleton and five other men then underwent what became the greatest open-boat voyage of all time; they sailed for 16 days and 800 miles across the Southern Ocean to South Georgia where they eventually reached Stromness Whaling Station. Shackleton was then able to arrange to rescue the 22 men that he had left under the command of Frank Wild. On August 30th, 1916 Wild and the others were rescued by the Chilean vessel, Yelcho. We had our own adventure as despite a rather large swell we boarded the Zodiacs for a closer look at the small spit of land where these men spent so much time; the breaking waves and strong wind set the scene perfectly as we tried to imagine the sufferings of the men of the Endurance Expedition. Afterwards we joined the staff for a recap in the lounge and then after dinner we watched ‘South,’ the original film by Frank Hurley of the 1914-16 Expedition. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From the National Geographic Endeavour in Antarctica Friday, February 03, 2006 Danger Island & Paulet Island By 0400 hours we had entered the pack-ice in the Weddell Sea. Given the bump and grind of the ship passing through, it didn't take us long to stumble out on deck and witness the most amazing scene; as far as the eye could see - ice, ice and more ice. Big ice, small ice, HUGE ice, green ice, white ice, blue ice and even 'dirty' ice (ice with rocks and dirt embedded in and on it). The shapes and sizes were astonishing. Even for those of us who had been to Antarctica before, this was a chance to look at the vista as if with fresh eyes. For the "ice-virgins," it was a dream come true - even better than what the brochures had hinted at, as we filled our digital camera cards, shot rolls and rolls of film and just drank in the astonishing seascapes. As the National Geographic Endeavour zig-zagged her way through the frozen sculptures, we caught glimpses of the Danger Islands. These are some of the remote northeastern islands of the Antarctic Peninsula. Typically surrounded by thick pack-ice or pounded by raging swells, most ships are prevented from even getting close, let alone actually launching boats and making a landing. We were blessed with no wind, and although the pack-ice was moving fast in the current we were able to launch the inflatable Zodiacs and head over to Heroína Island. Of the eleven staff members aboard, only one had ever landed here before, illustrating just how special this place was. We were all in awe as we approached the landing beach, where Adélie penguins were in such abundance that there was scarcely a spare inch on the beach. Running between the crowded penguins were Snowy sheathbills, a bird which specializes in eating all the delightful things off the beach, such as penguin poop! The excitement of the day was continued with a stop after lunch at Paulet Island, which hosts another huge penguin colony and where we had the chance to stretch our legs on a walk over the hill, or along the beach. After leaving Paulet, the sun came out and we had a stunning evening as we transited towards the Antarctic Sound and our next adventure. How could we top today? Only tomorrow would tell. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From the National Geographic Endeavour in Antarctica Saturday, February 04, 2006 King George and Deception Island, South Shetlands There was something Mediterranean about the view outside this morning: sun sparkling on a placid sea, a semicircular rocky bay with dramatic volcanic cliffs and brightly-coloured buildings behind the beach. Last night we left the icy white wonderland of the Weddell Sea and have now traveled northwest to the South Shetlands, an archipelago renowned for strong winds and violent storms. So this was freak weather indeed: blue skies and halcyon seas. It was also from the sublime to the ridiculous: from the pristine beauty of armadas of sailing icebergs, to the scientific suburbia of King George Island. This is the most populated part of Antarctica: on this one island alone there are 13 different research bases. To our left, the smart blue prefabs of the Chinese base, Great Wall, in front of us the small town of Frei, the Chilean base, and to our right, the red hangers of Bellingshausen, the Russian base. Once ashore we wandered around to look at the neighborhood. The Chilean community includes several families, a small school, a gym, a small blue church and a signpost built out of whale vertebrae. Sturdier souls marched out across the meltwater stream which marks the boundary (and one hour time zone difference!) between the Chilean and Russian camps, and there on a volcanic crag was the Disney-like apparition of a timber Russian Orthodox Church. Swathed in plastic and scaffolding, it is being strengthened to withstand the hurricane-force winds which punch through these islands at regular intervals. What a strange sight! A triumph of carpentry over commonsense, and just another twist to the cultural counterpane these islands have become. Beyond it is a small orange building funded by Coca-Cola for environmental education; appropriate perhaps, as the plain below still glitters with remnant glass shards from 40 years of drinks bottles, recently cleared. We left this bizarre toy town and steamed west for Deception, but somehow we just kept getting interrupted by the wildlife: first two groups of Orcas butting through a choppy sea, then Orcas menacing a Humpback Whale and calf, then Orcas pursuing penguins, and lastly Orcas shadowing a Sei Whale which steamed on, unfazed by its powerful escorts. But Deception Island beckoned: a huge volcanic caldera 8 miles across breached by the sea on one side which made a perfect sheltered harbour for the 19th century whalers. The National Geographic Endeavour squeezed in through the narrow gateway of Neptune's Bellows, then anchored in Whaler's Bay. This was a chance to stride along the black cinder beach, explore the rusting whaling station and reflect on the 1968 volcanic eruption which all but destroyed the British administrative base here. And just to prove that humans never learn, over 30 reckless souls took a hot bath in a steaming beach bowl dug out by the crew, while the rest of us looked on, aghast. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From the National Geographic Endeavour in Antarctica Sunday, February 05, 2006 Cuverville & Ronge Islands and Port Lockroy We left the South Shetland Islands in the evening, and after a quiet crossing of the Bransfield Strait, we woke in the sheltered waters of the Antarctic Peninsula’s inside passage with mountains towering on both sides of the ship and moody skies above. Shafts of sunlight broke through the cloud in places, illuminating the cliffs and shimmering on the glaciers and adding to the depth and drama of the landscape, a treat to the many early risers out on deck with their cameras. Our first stop that morning was Cuverville, one of the many islands huddled close to the peninsula, where some of the guests set off on a hike up the steep flanks of the island to get a breathtaking view of the bay and mountains surrounding us. Others remained closer to shore and got to know the bustling colony of gentoo penguins that make Cuverville Island their home. Later we made an excursion to Ronge Island, only a short hop by Zodiac, to see the chinstrap penguins who lived there and along the way investigating the exquisitely sculpted icebergs in the bay. And then it was time once again to wind our way further south, through the 64th parallel to the colourful old British base at Port Lockroy. Originally established as a top secret listening post during World War II, amidst (unfounded) fears the German navy might be using the Antarctic Peninsula as a hide-out, and later used as a scientific base until 1962, Port Lockroy has since been beautifully restored and turned into a museum – complete with gift shop and post office. Its sheltered harbour, surrounded by glaciers and the lofty peaks of the Seven Sisters, makes it a lovely spot for kayaking and so the afternoon was spent paddling the clear waters and browsing through the museum and sending home postcards which will bear the intriguing British Antarctic Territories postmark. Later we invited the three British station hands out to the ship, for a hot shower and dinner, and then spent a quiet night at anchor in a cove nearby. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From the National Geographic Endeavour in Antarctica Monday, February 06, 2006 Paradise Bay, Lemaire Channel, Booth Island Early this morning, Endeavour departed Port Lockroy, sailed across the Gerlache Strait and into the aptly named Paradise Bay. Surrounded by glaciated peaks towering thousands of feet straight out of the sea, Endeavour certainly seemed to have entered an unearthly paradise. Despite a stiff wind blowing down the Gerlache Strait, we had calm clear conditions for our landing at the unoccupied Argentine base, Almirante Brown. This tiny station occupies one of the few ice-free bits of land along the Danco coast where a landing can be made, and everyone streamed ashore, happy to be setting foot on the Antarctic continent itself. Taking in the visual glories of Paradise Bay from shore is one thing, but an added treat (courtesy of the fine weather) was the chance to kayak along the shores of the bay, under the watchful eyes of the cliff-nesting Blue-eyed shags and Pintado petrels. This afternoon, the powerful north wind helped us along on our way south, through the stunning, narrow Lemaire Channel with its impossibly steep sides and gorgeous hanging ice sculptures. We made our way into the anchorage at Booth Island for yet another Antarctic adventure, complete with howling wind and blowing sea-spray. Booth Island looms large in the annals of exploration as the base of the French Antarctic Expedition of 1903-05. It was here that the ship Francais, under the command of the splendidly named Jean-Baptiste Etienne August Charcot, passed the winter of 1904. Known as the 'gentleman explorer,' Charcot made two very successful expeditions to the Antarctic Peninsula (the second 1908-10), and ultimately discovered and charted hundreds of miles of coastline. Not unlike those of us aboard Endeavour, Charcot did not believe in unnecessary suffering and brought along plenty of fine food, an ample wine cellar, and a well stocked library on his expeditions. For those of us who are here to count penguins and other wildlife, the visit to Booth Island was essentially a free afternoon. Not that there wasn't plenty to count - all three species of brush-tailed penguins breed here, but the driving rain and howling wind prevented us from collecting any meaningful data. But for everyone on board, Booth Island was particularly eventful in the bird department. Not five minutes from the landing site stood a fourth species of penguin. A juvenile Emperor, one of the most seldom seen birds in the world. This exceptionally large penguin was undergoing its molt, exchanging old feathers for new. The days just get better and better, kayaking in Paradise and visiting with Emperors! -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From the National Geographic Endeavour in the Antarctica Tuesday, February 07, 2006 Antarctic Circle & Fish Islands Overnight we headed south, south, south. Debate focused on when, if at all, we would reach the Antarctic Circle. At 66° 33' S, the Antarctic Circle is an imaginary line on the charts, marking the point above which the sun does not set on the summer solstice, and conversely, the sun does not rise on the winter solstice. The further south one goes, the more days of continuous daylight one will experience in summer or continuous darkness in winter. At this time of year, a month and a half after the solstice, the sun sets for about 6 hours and during the hours of darkness our officers navigated further south, with a powerful spotlight picking out icebergs, growlers and bergy bits. An early morning alarm call announced that we were about to cross the circle. For the first time this season, ice and weather conditions have conspired to allow the National Geographic Endeavour to penetrate this far south. With no line in the water or monument to mark our passage, red jackets crowded the bridge to photograph the screen of the GPS readout, proof incontrovertible of the passage to our furthest south. Once south of the circle, we pushed further south in search of a possible landing. Eight miles further we were thwarted by an impenetrable wall of pack ice. We cruised the edge of the ice for a while, enjoying the seascape of ice as far as the horizon, dotted with crabeater seals and Adelie penguins. Then we turned our bow to the north and retraced our passage, relaxing on board and enjoying presentations and stopping along the way to Zodiac cruise in the rarely visited Fish Islands. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From the National Geographic Endeavour in the Antarctica Wednesday, February 08, 2006 Neko Harbour Today was our final day in the Antarctic, and it seemed as though the skies were weeping in sympathy. It was drizzling gently, but there was not a breath of wind, so despite getting rather soggy, we were perfectly happy. Once again there were a plethora of activities awaiting us. We could accompany the naturalists on a hike along the top of a glacier for a spectacular view of the surrounding bay, or we could simply sit and watch the delightful gentoo penguin chicks as they investigated the muddy puddles near their colony. We found their curiosity charming, and we were thrilled when a few of the youngsters came and tugged at our water-proof trousers. It was a magical experience to be surrounded by such trusting and inquisitive creatures. Some of us took advantage of our last chance to kayak. We watched the raindrops form never ending ripples on the glassy calm surface of the slate grey sea while the rest of us went exploring the bay in the Zodiacs. Some of us were fortunate enough to get a close look at a humpback whale while others saw a pod of 5 Minke whales. A handful of us were at the landing beach to witness a true spectacle of 'Polar Madness' as Dan Dion and Jordan Sprechman plunged into the freezing and brash-ice strewn water. They felt compelled to do it as they had decided, and regretted, not to swim in the geothermally-warmed water at Deception Island. During the afternoon we attended a talk by fellow guest, Jill Fredstone, who told us of her adventures whilst rowing in the Arctic. It was the humpback whales in the Gerlache Strait that gave us an unforgettable farewell. What an amazing sight it was to see one of these magnificent 40 ton whales thrust its massive body almost clear out of the water. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From National Geographic Endeavour in Antarctica Thursday, February 09, 2006 It’s certainly been said before in these pages, but it bears repeating: one of the great pearls of wisdom of the 20th Century came from that wise philosopher, Yogi Berra, who said “You can see a lot, just by looking.” As we have cruised around the Antarctic Peninsula over the past seven days, we have kept all our senses open, and we have seen and tasted, heard and smelled and felt a great deal. The otherworldly glow of blue ice. The sharp tang of penguin guano. The deep soft sigh of whale breath. The bite of the Antarctic wind. The warmth and spice of glög and much, much more. To me, the most remarkable thing about all of these moments is that they are each unique and irreplaceable intersections of our lives with the life of the white continent. It’s kind of a “if a tree falls in the forest…” thing. Of course, the penguins and whales and ice and wind have all been here every day of our lives and for countless millennia before. But each time we watched and listened and drank in with our senses this week, we made a unique, never to be repeated connection to the Antarctic world. The instant when we gasped as the 40-ton humpback flung itself out of the sea, the hour we spent watching the sunset glow rise and fade over the icebound peaks of the peninsula, the time we turned just at the right moment to see the hilarious antics of a fuzzy herd of penguin chicks tumbling over each other in pursuit of a lone adult. All of these are ours now, something we can hold in our hearts as long as we live. Certainly experiencing these moments has changed us, enriched us; perhaps, just perhaps, the moments themselves were changed by our experience of them. Is it important, intrinsically, that we have known these moments in the Antarctic? I think so. There is the simple value of knowing facts, learning new things ourselves, and possibly, increasing the body of scientific knowledge, as when I observed a sea spider feeding on a limpet, a previously unreported prey item for these strange and wonderful animals. But there is another value as well, very different and much more difficult to apprehend clearly. Twice during this trip I was able to film and share with our guests the beautiful sight of feather stars swimming. This isn’t common, I have only seen it on two or three other occasions in 118 dives in Antarctic waters, but the behavior is well documented. What was important in these encounters was not learning or cataloging or recording, but simply being there and being aware, sensing something precious. This is the value of pure experience, of sharing moments of our lives with the ancient, endless life of our world. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From National Geographic Endeavour in Antarctica Friday, February 10, 2006 We sighted Cape Horn around lunchtime on a calm and hazy afternoon, the famous mariner’s landmark signaling the end of our crossing of the Drake Passage and a return to civilization. It says a little something for Antarctica’s incredible isolation and the silent otherworldly landscapes we saw down there that a remote town at the tip of Tierra del Fuego could represent the hustle and bustle of our own workaday worlds. That’s one of the marvels of traveling to Antarctica by sea – the days of wind and dark waves, albatrosses and vast empty horizons help to tamp Antarctica into its rightful place in our imaginations as one of the last great far-away places left to us. In a world where we’ve grown used to jetting about at six hundred miles an hour – New York for breakfast, London for tea – a voyage to Antarctica still means some serious traveling and long days spent in the effort; Tierra del Fuego is only the jumping-off point. A pod of dusky dolphins greeted us at the mouth of the Beagle Channel and escorted the ship for a ways, leaping and frolicking in the waves. We leaned over the rails and watched them, basking in the unaccustomed sunshine and relative warmth of fifty-degree temperatures. The pilot joined us a little before dinner, and in the dusk we saw the lights of Ushuaia drawing nearer and the end of our great adventure on The Ice.