2002 Antarctica Adventure

ANTARCTICA

FollowingErnestShackleton

With extensions to The Falklands, South Georgia Island and Santiago, Chile

January 14, 2002 - February 6,2002

Author: Lois Olive Gray

Photos: KayEllenGilmour, MD

Photo Album: kaygilmour.smugmug.com

ON THE ROAD AGAIN

Day 1 American Airlines flight from Miami to Buenos Aires was excellent for the passengers not crowded (so sleeping was easier with several empty seats allowing better sleeping conditions) and no scary incidents of any kind. This was a new airplane to us (or perhaps a refurbished one) with little video-screens on the back of each seat. Rather neat for watching the movies or news or whatever.

Landed at Buenos Aires around 9:30 AM and were taken to Hotel Intercontinental which was very nice. Took a nap for a short while and then got up to explore B.A. after 11 years absence. As an aside in 2024 as I review this journal, consider the change in entertainment technology developed in only 14 years!

BUENOS AIRES

Day 2 Lunch at the Terazo del Virrey, an outdoor restaurant for the hotel, which gave us hints of things to come had we but been clairvoyant. It was a lovely setting with the tables nicely spaced beneath a high, tent like canopy hung on lovely wrought iron posts. The food was excellent, but it was difficult to keep the napkins on the table or our hair on our heads because the winds were blowing strongly and steadily. As it turned out, the wind would be a fairly constant companion on this whole trip: tormenter, air-freshener, hindrance, exhilarator, bogeyman, and artist. There were many flowers blooming all around us, hibiscus, bougainvillea, bromeliads, all in rainbow hues, and all being tossed about by the wind.

PLAZA DE MAYO

After lunch, we went on a pre-arranged city tour and were taken first to the Plaza de Mayo, the very same place we had vowed not go near since it had been the center of political demonstrations over the years. Sure enough, there was a “manifestation,” as our Argentinean guide quaintly labeled it, going on right then. It was more a sad to see than a frightening. The people were very orderly and were obviously country folk; there were the men, women, children, old and young, who have been so hard hit by the meltdown. There were probably 500 people altogether and they marched along to drumbeats of their own making carrying signs denoting their unemployment, their

financial desperation, and their demands that their government does something to help them. There were masses of police surrounding the marchers and stationed all over the big plaza and at all the government building surrounding it.

CASA ROSADA

Eva Peron’s old home, the Casa Rosada, was tawdry in all its partial coats of different hues of pink paint. Apparently, each new president gets to put a fresh coat on the building, but because the presidents haven’t stayed in office long enough to get the paint job completed, the next guy decides on a different shade and starts a new one. So it’s now decorated in about 6 distinct tints of pink. Because of the “manifestation”, we could not get near the Cabildo, the old government house, or the Cathedral.

Then our driver maneuvered us out of all the crazy traffic downtown and took us to the Recoleta area to see the more prosperous section of the city as well as to visit the cemetery where Eva Peron now finally rests after the strange migrations her body took after death.

RECOLETA CEMETERY

Much work is being done in the Recoleta Cemetery with new tile walkways, added drainage pipes beneath the walkways due to the considerable subsidence of the earth. The cemetery is a city of its own including the tomb of Eva Peron.

We drove through the gracious Recoleta residential community and also toured Puerto Madero where old waterfront warehouses are being renovated into stylish apartments, condos, shops, and restaurants.

We were also taken to La Boca, a district near the port where the tango was born and where working class folks have always lived. Much of this city is really quite lovely; there are many public parks with stately shade trees.

We were driven down the Ninth of July Avenue, a wide street marking Argentinean independence. The buildings were tall and prosperous looking demonstrating the influence of Spanish, English and French architectural styles. We got to revisit the pedestrian mall with the fashionable shop, La Avenida Florida. It still looks like there are good stores with pricey things displayed in the windows, but one can only wonder who has the money or the nerve to be spending “big bucks” in this economy.

The tour lasted three hours and did give us a chance to compare the Buenos Aires we remember from l989 with the present city. It was a beautiful day of a bright blue sky and puffy white clouds with a fresh breeze keeping us all alert. Other than the demonstration and the presence of so many policemen and military, we saw few changes in the city except that it looked somewhat tattered with more trash in the street, and buildings less crisp and bright.

But the people were still friendly and smiling in the streets and restaurants. After supper on the terrace again, our room beckoned with showers and comfy beds. We knew, too,

that the real adventure started tomorrow when we had to be up and in the lobby by 4:30 AM to board our bus for a trip to the domestic airport to catch our chartered flight to Ushuaia in Tierra del Fuego.

USHUAIA AND THE MSHANSEATIC

Day 3 We had set our clock for 4 AM knowing that we could be dressed and downstairs in plenty of time; however, the cruise personnel apparently did not trust its passengers and must have told the hotel to give us all wake-up calls at 3 AM. Bummer! So we and stayed abed until 3:30 and then stirred about getting ready to go to the lobby. There were grapefruit juice and small croissants awaiting us as a reward. Shortly thereafter, we got on the bus as scheduled. The domestic airport was quite new having been just finished the year before the economic crisis occurred. It was very nice and very well organized.

Our flight left at 6:30 AM and we were in Ushuaia by 9:30 AM. There was a big fiasco with the luggage as the folks in Tierra del Fuego tried to figure out how to apply the new security restrictions to arriving luggage. We waited over an hour while the authorities decided how we would reclaim our luggage before it was put on buses to be transferred to the ship. Finally, they unloaded the bags onto the baggage carousels and we each had to identify and claim our luggage, carry it to the main entry-way, and then leave it again this time to the ship’s baggage handlers. And all this was dealing with luggage arriving at this airport from within the same country! Can’t imagine what it would have been like to have been leaving the city by air. We were puzzled but never did get a satisfactory answer to the dilemma. However, one thing that traveling teaches is patience and a willingness to “go along” without any rational understanding of why things are as they are.

Next, we were put on buses into town and we were really amazed at the changes in this little “southernmost city in the world" since our last visit 13 years ago. When we were here before, there was a population of about 20,000 and now there are 45,000. There was no industry to speak of then and very few tourists; the town was small and tightly packed into a downtown area with a museum, a couple of small and rudimentary hotels, a few simple restaurants, and some service businesses like grocery stores, gas

stations, book stores, etc. Now, the city was much more spread out and there were Internet cafes on every block.

The city was surrounded by light industry (mainly assembly plants), the two older hotels were gone and new ones had sprouted on the hillsides above the downtown area. Everything seemed geared to tourists rather than residents. The city is rising along the flanks of the overhanging Andes which are snow-covered even at this time of year. It still retained all the interesting character we saw before in all the many colored buildings and roofs.

We walked the streets a bit, marveling over the changes. Then we went into a Locuteria+) (internet shop) to send e-mails to those at home. We walked to the Museo we remembered so well and that put us in front of the harbor where our ship, the Hanseatic, was berthed. Since she was not yet ready for our boarding, we were picked up by bus and taken out for a picnic in the national park of this island province. Since there were 120 passengers on this excursion, they divided us into two groups so that boarding would go more smoothly. The Hanseatic carries a capacity of 180 passengers and 70-80 crew.

The bus took us out into the suburbs and beyond to a local ski resort in the mountains where we had lunch which was a typical Argentinean lamb roast; it was as delicious as we had remembered!

We were also taken to Lago Escondido which was a lovely alpine lake surrounded by mountains and glaciers with a wonderful little lodge on its shores. The Hosteria Petrel was set amid the most astounding array of lupine we had ever seen; not only were the flowers enormous, they also came in colors we did not even know existed such as reds, blues, purples, magentas, mauve, white, yellow. It was a really incredible display. A most interesting part of our little tour was the lecture on how destructive the introduced beavers have been in Tierra del Fuego. Someone decided that since there is so much forestland and rivers and streams here that beavers fur production would be a good business for the area. So about l950, 35 pairs were introduced and they obviously loved this new habitat. Now there are over 40,000 beavers and they are eating all the trees, especially the native beech (lenga tree) which is being eradicated.

These North American beavers reach incredible sizes in these parts, 70 pounds or more because they have no natural enemies and there is plentiful nutrition for them. Worse

yet, the fur business idea failed because the pelts these immigrants produce never achieved commercial quality. Evidently, the beech trees sustain beaver growth, reproduction and even make excellent dams and lodges, but the nutrition they provide does not make for good fur. So nobody traps the beavers and they continue to eat their way through the lenga forests. It really doesn’t pay to fool with Mother Nature. Castor Canadensis evolved in North America and never got to South America by natural migrations and evolutionary pressures and the artificial introduction was not an unqualified success.

Finally 4:30 PM came and we were taken to the ship for a very smooth and quick boarding process and we found ourselves in a luxurious cabin, with a full marble bath, acres of storage space (including closets), a comfortable couch, table and chair, window instead of porthole, twin beds, refrigerator, dresser, TV and VCR, and 3 bedside tables. All this, even though the ship is only 440 feet. long with 85 passenger cabins. It was a wonderful home away from home for this adventure. As soon as everyone was aboard, we were called out for lifeboat drill even before the ship left the harbor. Later on during the voyage, we realized that had we known the kinds of seas we would be facing, the weather conditions, and the icebergs, we would have been much more anxious while

hearing all the instructions and warnings that were covered during the drill. They were very matter-of-fact about “abandoning ship”, fires on board, getting into lifeboats, and all the other necessary safety procedures. Tied up at the dock in Ushuaia, we could be very blasé about it all too, but later on there were times to reflect.

The Mud Room

Next, we did some ship exploration on our own, finding the two different dining rooms, the bars, lounges, and theater as well as the reception desk and the all-important “side gates” though we did not recognize their significance then. The expedition leader, Geoff Green, a Canadian with 57 Antarctic trips to his credit got us together to explain what kind of trip we had signed on for and how things would work on the voyage. We learned about Zodiacs, disembarkation and embarkation procedures, rules for visiting in Antarctica under the terms of the Antarctic Treaty, daily recap and briefing sessions.

The Bridge

We were introduced to the experts on board who would be our guides and teachers: Klemens Putz, a German penguin scientist (one of only 100 such experts in the world); David Fletcher, an English historian and manager of British Antarctic Survey stations for 27 years; Don Walsh, an American oceanographer; Patty Hostiuck, an expert on Antarctic seabirds and seals. They were really a formidable team of scientists (all with Ph.D.’s in their fields) who provided excellent lectures all during the “sea days” and on-thespot information to us at landings. Now, we were completely primed and ready. So after our first of too many delicious gourmet suppers, we went out on deck where the weather was still mild as it had been in Ushuaia to watch the twinkling lights of the city fade into a glorious sunset over the Andes with birds shadowing the ship all the way out the Beagle Channel into the Atlantic .

Were we excited? Are you kidding?

CAPE HORN

Day 4 Cape Horn The temperature when we arose today was 50 degrees and the sky was partly cloudy which seemed appropriate for “rounding the Horn.” Cape Horn is such a fabled place, but for such melancholy reasons. Here at the tip of the South American continent is the final toe of the Andes range, rising up sheer out of the sea to face the battling waters of the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans. Almost always stormy, sometimes ferociously so. Many sailors have lost their lives trying the get round the Horn sailing from East to West. Back in the days of sail, the passage could take a few hours or even months if the Westerlies would not wane. We were shown schematics from ships’ logs outlining their zig-zag routes as they tried to “beat it round the Cape” against the wind. Sometimes, they would literally be blown backward for days. And if you are sailing south rather than West as we were, you are heading into the infamous Drake Passage for two days and nights until you reach the tip of the Antarctic Peninsula.

The Passage is 600 miles of tumultuous seas pouring from the West into the narrowing funnel until they can broaden out again beyond the Passage where no more land masses impede their gyres as they rush ever west. “Old Salts” knew what to expect from this ride, but we novices were innocent except for what we had read in books and seen in movies.

But Cape Horn itself showed us an unanticipated friendly face! The sea was calm enough for us to be off for our first Zodiac landing on the Cape! Who would have ever thought that could be possible? We quickly learned that Zodiac cruising would be fun and we will always be grateful to Jacques Cousteau, their creator. Basically, the little crafts are rubber rafts with a metal flooring, a squared off the back end where the outboard motor sits, with the side tubes of the raft ending in a pencil point shape. They are very stable and quite comfortable aswell. The passengers sit 4 or 5 to a side on the rounded tube-shaped sides, and the driver stands at the rear handling the motor. If only one person is in the craft, the wind can get under the bottom and create a sail of the whole thing and tip it over front to back. Not a good bind to be in so the drivers are very careful when they are going into the wind with an empty Zodiac.

The little settlement atop Cape Horn is a perpetually cold, damp collection of primitive buildings where the Chilean Navy stations one sailor and his family for a year’s duty. The young man who had just assumed the post in November had brought his schoolteacher wife and 5-year-old son with him. The boy will be homeschooled on this improbable school campus. The various structures on top of the rock massif include the snug cabin for living quarters, a little chapel, storage houses for food, fuel, weather and other scientific equipment for the tests the Navy man must perform throughout his year’s posting. The Chilean flag is painted on top of the buildings’ roofs so that there is no mistake about the fact Cape Horn is part of the half of Tierra del Fuego that belongs to Chile not Argentina; - the two countries share the large island uneasily.

There are rickety white wooden steps leading up to the top of the rock, a vertical climb of about 100 feet through tussock grasses, lichens, mosses, wild strawberry and blueberry plants, with seabirds nesting in all the ledges, cracks and crevices along the way and on the rock face all around the staircase. Supplies are brought up to the top by a pulley arrangement beside the stairs.

The most dramatic structure on the island is the Cape Horn Memorial, a monument to all sailors lost at sea around this craggy rock. It is a large metal sculpture in two colors with a huge cutout place in its middle in the shape of the wandering albatross in flight.

There is a poem chiseled into a plaque next to the metal sculpture which says in Spanish that the albatross awaits the souls of drowned sailors and so that they can fly with the bird always above the Southern sea.

It is a lonely, but fitting, place for a memorial to the world’s sailors. The top of Cape Horn is windswept, treeless area, which receives very few visitors. The actual face of the Cape is about 400 feet high with no beach at its foot. There are some lone islets of rocks out from the Cape in three directions, but they only add to the dangers of the place. The sea relentlessly crashes against the rocky visage as though intent on wearing it away. But even this violent and riotous ocean has a lot of work to do before there is no more Cape Horn to affright the souls of modern sailors. Some of the birds we identified at the Cape were: black-browed albatross, grey-headed albatross, sooty shearwaters, giant petrels, imperial cormorants, and cape petrels.

We all got back on board the Hanseatic with no problem with a system they have for getting even the frailest of the passengers on and off the ship safely. Two strong able bodied seamen are stationed at the side-gate and help you down into the Zodiac or pull you out of the Zodiac. It matters not how strong or agile you appear, whether you are male or female, old or young, the seamen take your arms and put you in and out. Lunch was somewhat a mixed blessing to several folks on the passenger list; though hungry after the morning’s exertions, many were too queasy since the Drake Passage was already beginning to show us that its fearsome reputation for heavy seas was not unearned.

Many people ate little or nothing, including queasy Kay. The rocking and rolling passed with reading for me and sleeping for Kay, except when both of us tuned into Channel 2 on our TV to watch the lecture on “Plate Tectonics and Species Distribution.” It was interesting and went a long way towards explaining why we see similar animals in strangely disparate places on the globe. Afternoon tea was not on Kay’s agenda, nor was supper that night. As luck would have it, my stomach stayed quiet and I managed to make all the meals; so much for making this cruise a weight loss occasion. The ship was pitching and tossing sufficiently this evening that I saw two ladies fall over in their dining room chairs, even though the seats seems to be quite stable sitting on widely spaced legs. Neither was hurt but both were surprised, embarrassed and none too interested in completing their suppers. The wait staff was reeling about like they had been issued a bit too much grog to get them through the Passage and none of the plates, silverware or condiments wanted to stay on the tables. Everyone had to keep a close eye on their water glasses and plates as well.

THE DRAKE PASSAGE

Day 5 We awoke to long rollers, probably 10-12 feet high, with overcast skies and 7 degrees F. Walking in the ship was much easier than it was yesterday when the waves were choppier, taller, and intent on moving the ship in several different directions at once. Kay had her sea legs about her today and was able to partake of some breakfast. Maybe these “voodoo” wrist bracelets really do work after all. Spent most of the day running down the stairs to Darwin Hall in the bottom of the ship to attend lectures and then back up the stairs; we are refusing to take the elevators out of both pride and fear. Who wants to be in the elevator when the ship is swaying from side to side and back to front?

We had four separate lectures from our onboard experts: on seabirds, seals, the Southern Ocean, and the rules for Antarctic visitors. These lectures really are quite good and we are learning more details than we’ll ever remember. The Drake Passage continued to remain fairly calm all day, so Kay felt much better. So we read, then bird-watched, took some more notes, ate, visited the library to research the penguins we would see, and ate, and stood on deck as long as we could endure the cold and wind.

Suddenly, late in the afternoon, Smith Island loomed out of the fog as we left the Drake and entered the much smaller Boyd Passage, which would take us through the surrounding islands and right to the Antarctic Peninsula.

We have been advised to rise early in the AM if the weather was clear because we would see some truly awesome scenery as we passed between the islands on the port side and the continent on the starboard. Right now we don’t see very much except occasionally when bare gray-black rocks peek through the fog curtain and sharp craggy mountain tops emerge from the “fog ocean” drowning everything. We did not regret seeing the Drake Passage in our wake.

We were still in cloudy conditions in the early morning with some snow softly falling us. The sky was low and rather broody as we arrived, but it lifted somewhat and we even saw some blue sky patches that sent light onto the peaks and bergs. It was hard to convince ourselves that we were truly cruising down the Peninsula of the seventh continent. It really was a white/silver/gray world with clouds and sea blending into one. There was no obvious horizon and only the obdurate rocky faces and cliffs made any contrast at all with their stark blackness relieved only by the voluminous snow. Here, with silvery light coming from the overcast skies, even the glaciers and bergs showed little color, just ghostly hints of the blues and greens, which seemed to erupt out of them in sunlight.

Day 6 Neko Harbor, Paradise Bay & Port Lockroy

NEKO HARBOR

Our group, Zodiac Group A, was second ashore this morning at Neko Harbor on the Peninsula our first steps on the continent. We were met by Gentoo Penguins who stand about 32 inches high and weigh about 12 pounds. The white patch, shaped like an upside down light bulb, which narrows into the band running over the tops of their heads then widening out again above the other eye made their first human observers think of a turban. And that’s why they are called Gentoo, the word in German for turban. The little rookery was very busy rather late in the year according to Klemens, our penguin expert. They were sitting on eggs and on chicks and there were some older chicks, fully covered with down feathers in the nursery.

When penguin chicks of all species are fully downed, they move out of the nest into a group containing all the rookery’s young. Then the parents come to find them and feed them there, identifying the right chick by its own particular call, that sounds like a cross between a whistle and a cough. Because winter comes in April, the chicks still in eggs or in the nest are

probably doomed because they cannot get fledged fast enough. However, as Klemens said, penguins are pretty much “hardwired” by instinct and they just kept working on raising their young. Baby penguins cannot swim in their down because it has no water resistance and no buoyancy.

Their nests are made of pebbles picked up on the beach and arranged in a circle and cemented loosely with guano and mud. The Gentoos lived in the smelliest rookeries of all the species we saw. They are such fetching little critters and it’s hard not to anthropomorphize them with their wonderful dignity even as they waddle along on land; guess it’s the tuxedos that lend them their formality. They also look so vulnerable in their harsh environment. But they are dogged in their many trips down to the sea to bathe or eat or swim and then back laboriously up the impossibly high slopes they live on.

We learned that they preferentially choose the highest spots available because they are clear of snow first and because they are safer from predators, particularly the leopard seals, the orcas and from the sea itself which can wash away nests that are too close to water’s edge. This rookery was on snow with some bare patches

containing the nests. So the penguins had regular deep trails from the nest area and the nursery down to the sea and then other trails back up. Penguins are very orderly in their marching and usually proceed back and forth between land and sea in little groups, sticking to the proper up and down routes. Surely it is much easier than breaking a new trail through the snow each trip. So they show some smarts too and nature has certainly equipped them well for survival in the miserable conditions of the Antarctic as demonstrated by the fact that all species are thriving except for one, the Rockhoppers, which are being intensively studied to determine the reason for their precipitous decline.

Conditions in Neko Harbor changed rapidly and often: lots of ice, then less ice, snow or no, blazingly clear light one minute and then shadows and mists the next, calm seas with little ripples on shore and then bigger rollers coming in. This all in the space of a couple of hours while we were on shore enjoying wildlife. Besides the penguins, we saw a Crabeater Seal (who does not eat crabs, but krill), a Weddell Seal, and some Leopard Seals that is the only seal species that eats penguins. All these pinnipeds were sleeping on shore or on ice floes close to shore and would merely raise a head when the Zodiac motor woke them up.

Apparently, the inactivity of the leopard seals made the penguins fairly unconcerned because they kept up their parade to and from the beach. We had more respect for their tenacity and stamina when we attempted to climb up the hill through the same snow behind an abandoned Argentine refuge building which the birds are using asshelter.

The climb was steep and I fell many times through the snow up to my knees. The constant falling and getting back up made the climb more arduous than the grade would suggest. At least the penguins don’t fall through. This tiny beach was certainly a marvelous and auspicious place to first set foot on Antarctica. Its atmosphere and terrain, as well as the wonderful wildlife viewing, were humbling and inspiring. Guess we’ve fallen in love with penguins.

PARADISE BAY

Our second Zodiac experience of the day was a ride around Paradise Bay. Pouring into the bay are six enormous glaciers and many smaller ones. The bay was ringed with massive mountains covered with more snow and ice. We were just so amazed at the enormity of the scenery and with the realization that what we were seeing was only one bay in a continent bigger than the US!

The scale of Antarctica is hard to comprehend because there is so little around to give perspective to the features of the land: the mountains, the nunataks, the glaciers, the glaciated and etched rock faces. Our bird expert reminded us that in addition to the Gentoos, we had also seen Antarctic Terns, Snowy Sheathbills, Blue-Eyed Shags, Wilson's Petrels, Skuas and Cape Petrels.

The Snowy Sheathbill is an interesting little bird with chicken feet that stands about the size of a domestic hen. It patrols all kinds of bird rookeries not to eat the babies or break the eggs but to provide garbage services to his neighbors by eating spilled food and even guano. This activity helps to keep the areas policed. The Wilson’s petrel is a small bird in comparison with the other petrel species. The skuas are predatory birds that do eat the eggs and nestlings of other birds including those of the penguins. They are a handsome bird, quite large (bigger than the biggest crows we’ve ever seen) and a rich chocolate browncolor.

PORT LOCKROY

Our third time off the ship today was to visit Port Lockroy, an old British Antarctic Survey post that now serves as a Gentoo rookery and a museum. The buildings have been carefully restored to their circa l950s look and they are manned during the winter by some ambitious Brits who sell stamps and cards and other little gift items to support the upkeep of the museum and they will accept mail which takes approximately 4 to 6 weeks to reach the US. It has to await a ship which will take it to the Falkland Islands from whence it heads for the UK and then is finally sorted and sent on the places in the USA. We mailed a couple of experimental postcards just to see how long it takes to get them here. The buildings were made of wood and were sturdy looking. These hard working fellows have even painted the trim on the eaves and windows a bright red which is a welcome spot of color in the “film negative” world of snow and ice.

The rooms are all designed to be used by several folks at the same time, probably necessary to add warmth to what the inadequate heating sources provide. Now, of course, nobody tries to exist here in winter, but back in the 40s and 50s, it was a working scientific station, doing primarily on Glaciology, volcanism, and ice coring. Just to prove to us that we really are in Antarctica, it snowed and hailed on us during our visit to this lonely outpost in a spectacularly awesome setting.

LEMAIRE CHANNEL

Day 7 We awoke to another cold, rainy, snowy, foggy, leaden sky day with choppy seas but no rollers. Out on deck, there was ice clinging to the railings and blowing in our faces. It took courage to stay outside of the cozy stateroom. There was no Zodiac expedition in the morning due to the weather conditions.

However, the Hanseatic took us cruising in the Lemaire Channel, a narrow bit of ocean running between the Peninsula and the outer islands. Maybe it was even better to see this bit of the world in such inhospitable conditions because they probably added to the impressions we formed. The land we did see on either side muscled its way out of the fog and snow occasionally so that we could discern the architectonic mountains plunging right into the sea beside us covered with millennia of snow and ice, cradling glaciers calving directly into the waters around us. A strange glowing light bathed the mountain

tops and the snowfields startlingly and periodically maybe the sun was trying to burn an opening in the damp cloud and fog rags hanging in nature’s theater.

We saw some Adelie Penguins floating by us on bergie bits along with other passengers, the seals. The Channel is short and so narrow that ice often clogs it completely. As we slowly pushed our way through, we learned about brash ice which is loose ice in easily movable small pieces that pose neither hindrance nor threat to ships or boats. Then there's the pack ice that can be highly dangerous when it piles up and is moved about by the ocean swells and currents or when it blocks a channel or the stretches of ocean with solid ice as far as the eye can see. Floes, which are pieces of the pack that have broken away and now float about on their own, are particularly dangerous as they move about following the wind, sea swells and currents. Interspersed in this channel with the pack ice were “bergie bits” (small ice bergs posing no particular threat as long as they are not hit or flip over creating waves that could swamp smaller boats) and “growlers” the rotten remains of melting bergie bits which float low in the water and rub against the sides of a boat creating the characteristic “growls.”

The Lemaire was too small for any big bergs to be within its confines and if one had tried to get in, the whole channel would have been blocked. Even though it was very cold and the wind was blowing 40-50 knots, no one wanted to go inside because the scenery and the sounds of the wind, the ship rubbing its slow way through the ice, and the birds crying above and around us, and the constantly changing light were just too mesmerizing. So we all endured painfully cold toes and fingers so we could see as much of this magical place as possible. Everyone wanted the picture to be clear and lasting in his mind’s eye.

This, after all, was what we had come to see for ourselves in this forbidding land.

We were heading towards Petermann Island to go ashore in the Zodiacs, but the pack ice was too thick in the Lemaire for us to go further. So our captain turned the ship completely around in the Channel and we head out towards the Peltier Channel which took us back around Port Lockroy. Even though we were all disappointed at not getting to disembark at Petermann, we were hopeful that the afternoon would afford us another chance at a landing after lunch where everyone tried to re-warm their sore extremities.

Around 3:15 PM we got off the ship again, this time as Cuverville Island. Weather conditions were much improved with no more snow, higher skies, and warmer temps. Because Gentoo rookeries have a characteristic and potent odor, you can tell from quite a distance out that you are approaching one. This island contained several Gentoo rookeries sitting on snow and exposed rocks. This snow was deep enough to pull you in hip deep so that you could get your protective rubber pants wet with snow and gluey guano. But it was still fun to walk along the pebbly and boulder-strewn beach where we saw two whale ribs and a surprisingly huge whale vertebra in our path. When we turned from the beach and headed up the snowy slope, we could icebergs on the other side of the island and actually watched one “roll” when a significant piece of it calved and changed the balance. The berg was an iridescent blue which shimmered in the gunmetal gray seawater.

DECEPTION ISLAND

BAILEY'S HEAD BEACH

Day 8 Deception Island is the remains of an old volcano caldera which was used as a whaling station in the heyday of that bloody enterprise. The island is part of the South Shetlands. The day began a little better than any we’ve had recently in that there was some partial sunshine. The morning was wet and wonderful with sunlight glinting on the raindrops and all the wet surfaces of rock, ship, rubber raft, parkas, and sunglasses.

Bailey’s Head was the beach we aimed for in our first Zodiac expedition today.

The beach is guarded and protected by a huge rock monolith which helps keep the seas from being quite so tumultuous. When we landed, we thought we were on a black sand beach typical of volcanic islands; however, we were quickly told that we were actually walking on a glacier covered with volcanic ash and pumice stones. Even we were so informed, we could not really tell that it was so.

Chinstrap penguins were in residence here. These cheerful little fellows are 27 inches high and weigh only 9 pounds. This rookery as the largest we’ve yet seen with between 60,000 and l00,000 breeding pairs. They are spread all over the beach and up the caldera walls as high as we can see.

Most of their chicks are well on the way to fledging and are in their nursery/kindergarten groups. The ever-industrious parents are in constant motion heading down to the sea or back up to their chicks for feeding. It is really both funny and humbling to see these little guys working so hard at parenting. Though they are wonderfully balletic and fast in the water, land is not so kind to them. They trudge and they waddle and they struggle up the steep places. Their feet are huge for their body size and have prominent toenails that help them get a purchase on the boulders and steep sides they must ascend.

Also meeting us on the beach were five adult fur seal males. We had been told how closely we are allowed to approach any wildlife and most of the creatures require a 10meter circle to feel comfortable. However, we were instructed to give the fur seals 30 meters of space since they can move very rapidly; they are able to rotate their hind

flippers under them and thereby “walk/run” on land very efficiently. Their bite is particularly nasty and is l00% infective because of the shape of their teeth which retain bits of whatever their last meals have been. So we had been forewarned to avoid being chomped on by a fur seal. These young males were actually more interested in confronting each other than they were in us but we were still careful to give them their space. Lazier ones were just snoozing in the blessed sunlight. When we passed by them at eye level (we were walking in a streambed below the shelf they were lounging on), we could see why they had been hunted almost to extinction. Their fur is really quite beautiful in texture and colors and it has terrific insulating properties. It is estimated that before sealing started in the nineteenth century, there were approximately 2 million fur seals in the world. When sealing was halted, the population was down to a projected 60,000. Now, just 40 years later, there are about 4 million fur seals in the world and their exploding population is putting pressure on habitats of other creatures everywhere because they are taking so much space on the few beaches available. Scientists speculate that this enormous overpopulation is due to the abundance of krill in the ocean.

That krill is so extraordinarily available because there are not enough whales left to eat it down and the fur seal population is out of hand. Whales are slowly coming back with the whaling moratorium except by a few countries like Japan and Iceland, so it is hoped that the food supply for fur seals will level off so that they get back down to more manageable numbers. The sunlight was magnificent and seemed to lift both human and animal spirits. The penguins were playing in the surf and washing themselves and beating their flippers back and forth with impressive speed.

We learned that if they are overheated, the underside of the flipper will be pinkish because the capillaries there are the only way they can release heat. Jumping into the water helps insofar as it bathes and cools those blood vessels in the flippers because the rest of the penguin body is so well insulated that they do not lose heat in other body parts. So we saw lots of little pink under-wings as they enjoyed the unaccustomed sunshine and warmth; it was probably up to 35 degrees F. To give the fur seals the wide berth required, we had to ford a little glacier stream with rather steep and crumbly sides.

While we worked at figuring out the best way to get down the slope, into the swift waters, and onto the other side, the chinstraps merrily crossed much more gracefully than most of us. They look such merry little fellows, with a dark “chinstrap” line under their bills in the white part of their head; it actually almost looks like they are grinning broadly.

The other thing that may make chinstraps looks so happy is that their rookeries are not nearly as smelly as the Gentoo nesting grounds. We never knew exactly why since all the species eat pretty much the same things, krill, and squid. But our Herr Professor Klemens assured us that it was so the chinstraps are much less odoriferous. It’s very difficult to view the colonies as a living whole and not worry about the individuals we watched. If one was limping, or thin, or slow, or obviously sick, it was just not possible to ignore his plight saying that overall the population is healthy and in no danger. It must be very hard to observe these trusting little birds objectively and not interfere with Mother Nature by trying to rescue ones that don’t look strong enough to survive the next swim with the leopard seals, much less the coming winter.

We saw the first green we’ve seen since leaving Cape Horn on Deception Island’s Bailey Head Beach. At first, we were all excited thinking we seeing tussock grasses again, but we were quickly disabused of that hope. Instead, the caldera slopes were covered in patches of lichen and alga which gave the walls their surprising colors. There was also no white on this beach at all and even up on the higher slopes, there was none except where there was exposed glacier ice. After this wonderful landing, we sailed off again towards Whaler’s Bay, Deception Island on the other side of the island from Bailey Head.

WHALER'S BAY

This part of the enormous caldera which comprises Deception Island is entered through a narrow opening in the wall of the collapsed volcano; the gap is known to sailors as Neptune’s Bellows because the winds and waves make entering the harbor somewhat challenging to a ship captain. The boat actually floats through this opening into Port Foster. On the other side of this ocean-filled bowl is the beach area where many different human activities have taken place over the years whaling, exploration, scientific research. Still active scientifically are the Spanish and Argentinean research bases; the British and Chilean stations were destroyed by the most recent eruption in the l960s. The remains of the whaling station have been derelict even longer. Our visit to this rather melancholy spot was actually quite super!

The volcanic black sand beach is very large both in length and width. The backdrop for the bay and the beach consists of the rest of the caldera wall which is probably 500 feet tall. The beach was littered with evidence of the killing ground this place once was whale ribs, vertebrae, femurs, etc. The resilience of nature is also demonstrated here by the presence of fur seals, chinstrap and Gentoo penguins, and seabirds of various kinds. However, this spot is not a rookery for penguins or other birds and no one reports seeing whales enter Port Foster. As remembrances of human activities here, there are tumbledown sheds, a skeleton airplane hangar and the red fuselage of a 1940 vintage aircraft. Piles of barrel staves, which we at first took for whale ribs, were actually the supplies to build the receptacles for the whale oil to be shipped from this station. The

whale oil tanks and the rendering furnaces stood rusting on the beach, harshly bloody against the blue sky we were enjoying. There were old wooden whaleboats lying about as well, some upright and others tipped over - all weathered into a silvery patina that was almost beautiful but definitely picturesque.

The volcano in its violence was excellent at destroying the works of man, at least no human being died in the eruption - though the five British stationed here had a very close call.

There was another gap in the caldera wall above the south end of the beach which invited a climb to peer through “Neptune’s Window” as it has been called. Legend has it that Nathaniel Palmer made the climb and looked through and got the first ever glimpse of Antarctica. One of the more intriguing facts about Antarctic discovery and exploration is the fact that these early explorers really were the actual first human beings to see and

set foot on the continent because no indigenous human beings have ever lived here. So unlike the European discovery of the New World (when there were already peoples living here), these fellows really did land on the seventh Continent first.

However, when we looked at Neptune’s Window,, clouds effectively hid the mountains of the Antarctic Peninsula from our view, so we would have failed to discover the continent had we been the first to check out the view. We walked the entire length of the beach and forded the pretty little glacial stream running from the top of the caldera mountains to the sea. We looked with pleasure at the doughty penguins frolicking in the surf; these were penguins without the apparent cares of parenthood since there were no babies or adolescents at this site. They toddle down to the beach like little babies learning to walk, get their feet wet in the surf, wait for a bigger wave and then sort of fall in head first. Then you see them “porposising” through the waves with such streamlined efficiency. Next, through the clear ocean water, you can see them flying under the surface with even greater efficiency. Their grace and maneuverability in the water are really quite splendid.

After they finish bathing and playing, they await a bigger wave which flings them back on the shore where they often land face and belly down. Then they pop up sort of like a Shmoo doll from L’l Abner, and regain their dignified carriage before waddling away from the tide. What improbable but wondrous creatures they are.

Some of our more adventuresome party took the opportunity to take a plunge in a shoveled out pool. We didn't.

Later in the day, the ship called at Jubany Station, an Argentinean base, on a nearby island where we off-loaded two young female German scientists who would be spending the summer working there; one was doing research on skuas and the other on crabeater seals. It too is a lovely spot, with glaciers meeting the sea, a nunatak, which is a mountain buried all but its very top section in a glacier, and a volcanic plug called Los Tres Hermanos guarding the bay opening. Volcanic ash sits under the two research stations here but does not cover the glaciers which are severely white and frigid looking.

The buildings of the Argentinean and Spanish stations sat side by side were fairly new looking with grayish-black siding. The rooftops of the Spanish were orange and tops for the Argentineans were red. The gaily painted national flags decorating part of the roof of each main building added some color to the black and white world. It was true, we could not complain of anything this evening as the sky was blue and resplendent with clear and glowing light playing on the ice and snow and picking out every texture in rocks and ash and buildings. The stations were kept so neatly that the ground around the buildings could stand the scrutinizing stares we sent in their direction. No human detritus lying about. Antarctica looked pristine in the miraculous light.

Day 9 After a very stormy night in the Antarctic Sound where the Weddell Sea and the Southern Ocean clash and blend in a small area just at the top of the Antarctic Peninsula, we awoke to mixed skies with cold temperatures. The wind and the waves had been strong and the boat rocked quite a bit. The morning did not look too promising for Zodiac landings and indeed it was not.

PAULET ISLAND

The first try was at Paulet Island one of the spots that Shackleton had hoped to reach when he and his men first took the lifeboats but both wind and waves precluded a landing. Probably all of us aboard were secretly relieved since the weather looked particularly foul outside our warm cabins. So our resourceful captain turned the ship and cruised back down the Peninsula towards Vega and/or Devil Island hoping for an after lunch landing. Lunch was particularly good as we had our favorite American fare hamburgers and fries with a most delicious catsup! However, whereas the anchor wouldn’t hold at Paulet, the winds were the preventive at Devil and Vega and much too strong to allow the Zodiacs to operate safely. However, we were shown Cape Well-Met where two parties of Nordenskjold’s 1903 expedition found each other after having been separated for weeks without either group have any idea where the other one was. It has to be one of the more freakishly accidental meetings in exploration history anywhere.

There was also a third party trying to survive on its own too and eventually, all three groups met but not as strange as this “Dr. Livingston, I presume” type encounter. On Devil Island, our experts pointed out a medial moraine; these are very unusual in Antarctica.

We had already been instructed about lateral and terminal moraines but this was our first look at this third variety. Moraines are the piles of rubble that glaciers push around them as they bulldoze their way through the terrain on which they flow. So the terms are descriptive of where the pile sits in relation to the glacier’s flow.

Terminal moraines are not visible until the glacier retreats and the front end of the piled up material can be seen. Of course, lateral moraines are the lines of materials shoved out of the way alongside the glacier’s path. Medial moraines, however, are most interesting. They are the product of two individual glaciers pushing around a mountain to meet on the other side. From there, they slide along each other, side by side, plowing up the rocky debris between themselves into a spine the medial moraine.

So it’s really the lateral moraines of two glaciers blending their middle side piles into one on their way forward. Here at Devil Island, the phenomenon was quite dramatically demonstrated in a very dark and comparatively wide line between the united glaciers below the nunatak. When the sun shines in Antarctica, it creates a whole different world from that seen in the mists, fogs, snows, and overcast skies.

Colors are revealed and continuously change in hue and saturation. All textures are sharply outlined and lined. Spotlights beam through holes in the clouds to pick out mountain tops and set them on fire from the inside so that they glow in many shades - from pinks and mauves to golds and silvers. Icebergs change most of all as they seem to leap to the forefront of your vision and vie for your attention with their incredible shapes, textures, and colors. Who would have thought that ice could take on such different looks?

Some of them look like crystal almost transparent though they take on colors from deep green to sea foam green, to electric blues and pale turquoise to aqua. Others look like pewter and are that color as well. Still, others looked like unpolished jade both in color

and surface quality. Then there are still more that look like floating rocks ochre and pale brown. The sea itself changes appearance sometimes cobalt blue, sometimes silverplated, and then again dark and dirty gray, and then even more surprising, as turquoise as the Caribbean when sufficient glacier “milk” rides on the surface of the ocean from the melting glacial streams.

Sometimes the surface of the sea is oily as the waves roll beneath an apparent covering sheen; sometimes the waves and the water look almost hard like a stone would bounce off it; other times it looks pockmarked and softer like a skin; then again it will be wild with froth and white-cap so that it’s hard actually to focus on the water itself.

Another very interesting sea phenomenon was actually an incredible light display. In the Fridjhof Strait, we saw that the waves were actually outlined on wave crests with a black narrow line, still present even when the waves were breaking in open ocean. At first, we thought it was kelp floating at the surface or may plankton, but it really was light playing along the wave tops.

When the sun is not shining, the Antarctic world is a forbidding wilderness, cold and uninviting. But when the sun does shine, it still looks cold but not quite so inimical and the world is suddenly full Technicolor and your eyes are dazzled by the variety of shapes and colors. No wonder sailors, explorers, whalers, sealers, photographers, and we tourists are so captivated by this incredible show!

Our afternoon Zodiac excursion was the third choice, but we didn’t think that numbers one or two could have been any better.

BROWN BLUFF

Brown Bluff was our second landing on the Antarctic continent so that in itself was pretty special. While our Neko Harbor landing was on the west side of the peninsula, Brown Bluff sits on the east side, so we were also actually in the Weddell Sea; this is the body of water that trapped Shackleton and his men for 9 months in the ice. We saw four kinds of seals: Crabeater, leopard, fur, Weddell, and two penguin species: Gentoo, and Adelie, both with chicks. We think that the Adelies with their totally black heads, white breasts, and pink feet are the most handsome of the penguins we’ve seen so far. The beach itself was aptly named for the towering brown crumbly bluffs that backed it up. It was not a very large beach but it was very much alive and we enjoyed the new brown, softer looking background.

We observed an amazing behavior from the Adelies the “mommy” chase. Only the Adelies have this practice. When mom or dad Adelie returns to the nursery to feed their chick, they first identify their own baby by its cry and then they call to the chick to come and get the food. As the baby approaches the parent, it begins to run away from the baby so that

it must run to catch up. Scientists have decided that there is a twofold purpose to this strange activity

 the baby is isolated from the big nursery inhabitants and gets to eat all its own food in less frantic conditions and

 the baby is made to exercise itself and thereby becomes stronger. We weren’t told why the other penguin types have not adopted this behavior if it is so beneficial. At any rate, it is very comical to watch because the parents are determinedly waddling away, the “furry” babies are in hot pursuit, screeching petulantly on their little wobbly legs until the parent decides that enough running has occurred. Then he/she stops and bends over the baby and regurgitates the meal into the chick’s waiting beak.

Of course, there some scavenger birds waiting around to pick up any krill or squid that happens to miss the little hungry mouth in the transfer. Eating regurgitated fish sounds pretty awful, but we learned about a penguin adaptation that renders it less disgusting to our human sensitivities. All the Antarctic penguins have this wonderful capacity: when the parents go out to sea to feed, they first feed for themselves.

When the “switch” in their brain tells them they have eaten enough, their stomachs are completely emptied and several physiological changes take place:

 peristalsis ceases

 stomach acids are not secreted,

 and their stomach becomes a “refrigerator” that is actually at least 10 degrees lower than their body temperature to store the undigested food for the chick feeding.

So when the parent regurgitates the food he/she obtained for the baby, it is fresh and cool and no digestive process has even been started on it. How about that fresh seafood for the furry little guys! Besides our wonderment watching this unique and charming penguin behavior, we enjoyed the spectacular scene that nature was spreading before us on the palette of the physical scene.

The sky overhead became completely blue with only a few puffy. rather tropical looking. white clouds and as evening came on; the light turned silvery and limpid so that everything seemed to be outlined in silver. The bergs floated by in all their magnificence with myriad unreal colors displayed before our eyes. Then after we were aboard ship again and had had dinner at 9:00 PM, the sunset display commenced. The clear sky became more beautiful with every passing second with pinks and magentas, oranges and reds, and then the most amazing thing of all happened. All the clouds suddenly were outlined with a fiery gold band just like our more usual clouds with silver linings, except these were gold. It was really breathtaking and you could the oohs and aahs breathed out all along the deck rails where we specially blessed tourists were staring in wonderment at this heavenlyshow.

After all this glory and the emotions it produced, we went back inside to a sad note one of our fellow passengers has taken seriously ill. It sounded as though he was having TIAs "mini- strokes". It was determined that he had to be evacuated out of this remote area to where he can get proper medical care. The ship’s doctor was trying to keep him stable and was in constant contact with his neurologist in New York who felt he needed to be returned to the states. Therefore, we needed to change our route and head for the closer of the two places in the Antarctic where there is an airstrip, King George Island. (The other airstrip is at the South Pole at the Scott-Amundsen US Station, but it’s more than 1800 miles away from us.)

A plane can come from Punta Arenas, Chile, to the Chilean Antarctic Base on King George Island for the evacuation. We were relieved for our fellow passenger when we learned he had purchased the Med-Evac insurance for this trip since it will cost more than $100,000 to get him back to civilization.

KING GEORGE ISLAND AND PENGUIN ISLAND

Day 10 This large island in the South Shetlands chain has been utilized since Antarctic explorations began in the late 19th century. Right now it is home base to five country’s research stations: Chile, Russia, China, Uruguay, Argentina. Chile’s Frei-Marsh Base is the site of the airstrip which all countries in the Antarctic Treaty can use. Under the terms of the Antarctic Treaty, all countries have renounced the right to make territorial claims on the continent or in the Antarctic region.

However, most countries have probably just put their claims in abeyance while the treaty is in effect (it was recently extended for another 50 years, taking it to 2049) and in the meantime try to make sure they have presence so that when the day comes that claims can be made they have a good basis for theirs. To make a valid claim to land, countries must demonstrate two things: presence and activity.

For that reason, the joke is that the Brits build post offices, the Argentineans put out navigation aids like buoys and beacons, and the Chileans have babies in their territory. That also explains why so many of the original 17 signatories make sure they have at least one base in the Antarctic even when they cannot really afford it or when they cannot really fund any science.

The only two nations to have made no territorial claims are the USA and Russia, but, of course, they both have big bases (the USA has two—McMurdo and Scott-Amundsen South Pole Base.

FREI-MARSH BASE

The Chilean Frei-Marsh Base (named for an ex-President) is “plush” as these stations go. Since they are claiming it as the Antarctic province of Chile, they station married military men with their families there in La Villa Estrella. So there is a primary school and a high school, a hospital, general store, post office, housing for both single and married men, gymnasium and movie theaters, bowling alley, an ingenious system for piping water to each building that does not freeze up in winter, and adequate heating supplies for the whole base, not to forget the aforementioned airstrip which they maintain. We all enjoyed exploring Frei-Marsh, visiting and the amenities.

The Catholic Church is made of four ship cargo containers. It is a robin’s egg blue and finished very attractively inside with an altar, a painting behind it, painted stations of the cross, pews, and kneelers. The walls are a light paneled wood. The elementary school rooms are large enough for the six children who attend and the walls contain pictures of the two Nobel Prize winners Chile has produced: Gabriela Mistral for poetry in 1945 and Pablo Neruda for poetry in 1972. There are computers with Internet connection which can be used by anyone living on the station after school hours. The junior and senior high classes are housed in the gymnasium building and they are 18 students strong. The little hospital has four beds and two physicians. Specialists can be flown in from Chile when needed or the patient can be flown to Chile ifstable.

RUSSIAN BELLINGSHAUSEN BASE

Right next to this base sits the Russian Bellingshausen Base which is a lesson in modern Russian economics. The base is only manned by nine or ten men and very little science is being carried on because the government cannot afford to fund it and what monies they want to commit to Antarctic research goes to their much bigger station on the continent, Vostok. However,theyhave no intention whatever of abandoning this base.

The Chileans are supportive of the men who are stationed on the Russian base to the extent that they permit them to shop in their store, utilize their post office, etc.

We had been told by the Hanseatic crew that the plane from Punta Arenas was due in around 12:15 PM to pick up our sick passenger. We all watched apprehensively from shore as the weather turned around. When we had come ashore at 8:30 AM, there was some sunshine mixed with light clouds.

However, by the time we went back on board to get ready for lunch, the clouds were lowering, sunshine was disappearing and a fogbank was rolling over the mountains behind the base, already obscuring the landing lights. As we sat eating lunch, we could see that the airstrip was lost in the fog and that the plane was circling overhead waiting for a change in the visibility. The plane had come with sufficient fuel on board to circle for two hours before it had to turn back. Unfortunately, two hours elapsed and the fog and clouds only got thicker. So the plane flew back to Punta Arenas without the patient. To keep us all amused, the ship left Maxwell Bay and headed to Penguin Island a 2 ½ hour cruise away. After the planned landing there, the ship was to return to the Chilean base when the plane will try again to land. On our way to Penguin, we saw a mother and baby humpback whale off the port side of the ship. They put on a good show for us, frolicking in the open sea, breaching, and rolling, and looking at us just as we stared in wonder at them.

Whales are always surprising when you actually see them because they are even more enormous in real life than in the memory! To watch the mother and her calf enjoying each other was a really special gift.

PENGUIN ISLAND

We got to Penguin Island around 6 PM. Zodiac B group was going ashore first so we had time to look at the scenery from the boat. We noted that the sea was a pale green here and wondered if it could be because it was shallower. However, on closer checking, we figured that melt waters from the island's glaciers was probably the more likelycause. We had a limited time on shore because now the plane from Punta Arenas was due to arrive around 9 PM and we would have to be back in time to meet it. We were beginning to see little signs of “mutiny” among some of our fellow passengers, little clutches of folks whispering together in the gangways, snatches of conversations including remarks like “we paid for this trip” and “why did he come to such a remote location if he was having medical problems?” and “maybe we should talk to Geoff (the expedition coordinator).” We are hoping the plane can land tonight to avert a full-scalerebellion.

Getting into the Zodiac was a little more hazardous on this evening due to heavy swells which made the little boat rise and fall precipitously against the ship. A couple of the ladies sort of fell into the Zodiac and had to be helped up onto the tube side, but neither was hurt. Doing our usual “wet” landing at the island was easy even with the rollers but re-boarding the Hanseatic after the shore excursion was rather dicey

Thank goodness we have the strong seamen there at the side-gate to help us on and off the ship safely. Penguin Island is a bit of a charnel house with many dead things and remains littered about the beach, including penguins, seals, petrels and even old whale bones. There were also many live critters, like fur seals, Weddell seals, and even some elephant seals.

The penguins here were the chinstraps with chicks. They were very busy on their little pink feet. Seals were playing in the surf but they were obviously not leopard seals because the chinstraps had no fear of falling in the water with them.

Some of our group elected to climb a 540’ cinder cone behind the rock-strewn beach; we and others walked and snapped our pictures. The view from the top was probably good, but we wanted to be among the penguins. Besides, we’ve already had the experience of climbing a cinder cone in the past and it was not all that much fun because of the 2 steps and l back way you slip and slide in thecinders.

Being with the little chinstraps on this tiny Antarctic beach, watching the seals frolic in the sea and laze on the land, hearing and seeing the giant petrels nesting on the bluffs behind the beach and above our heads, all paying little or no heed to our presence, gave me that wilderness feeling I’ve only experienced a few times before in Alaska and on the

South Atlantic shore of Argentina. It’s like being present when the world was new, pristine and maybe even innocent. And to realize this is not a zoo, this is the real Antarctic world. What a gift and a blessing that is! Man does not govern this world, plan it, organize it, or keep it going all we can do is either leave it all to Mother Nature or muck it up and/or destroy it.

PASSENGER RESCUE

Day 11 The plane was unable to take off from Punta Arenas yesterday afternoon so there was no 9 PM passenger pickup. We awoke this morning to cloudy skies and the startling appearance of a passenger ship completely filling up our window. It turned out to be the sister ship of the Hanseatic, the Bremen. She was doing the same cruise as we except in the opposite direction. Therefore, she was on her way home toUshuaia.

A Zodiac exchange was arranged for our ailing passenger who was put aboard the Bremen that also has a doctor and hospital aboard to be returned to Frei-Marsh if an airplane could be arranged. If the plane was still unavailable, he would be taken on to Ushuaia and flown home from there. We wondered whether the med-evac company which had tried to fly a plane in to rescue the man would get any of the money from the insurance, but, of course, we will never know how it all turned out. We were promised reports on the passenger as the cruise continued, but we never did get any word. We can only hope that he got back to the USA and under the appropriate medical care.

Later we were told that Geoff had tried last night to talk the Chilean hospital at the FreiMarsh base into accepting the passenger until a flight could get through, but they were adamantly opposed to that arrangement, as who can blame them. They were not equipped to handle serious neurological problems either.

Kay and I could only marvel at the good work Geoff had done in all the arrangements he had tried to make and the ones he did make to get the passenger back safely. He earned his salary from Hapag-Lloyd Shipping on this trip for sure!

After the interesting patient transfer scene right outside our window, we spent most of the rest of the day in lectures in Darwin Hall while the captain steamed ahead trying to make up for lost time. We were heading towards the legendary Elephant Island where 22 of Ernest Shackleton’s unfortunate crew had to survive for 4 ½ months waiting and hoping that “The Boss” would make it safely to South Georgia Island 800 miles away. And make he did in one of the most exciting adventure stories ever told. In the meantime, we listened to Klemens discuss recent penguin research, most of it designed to learn where they feed, how deep they dive, what they eat, and what are their biggest survival threats. Dave gave us a minute- by-minute description of life during a year on an Antarctic scientific base, and Ross told us in detail about the traveling exhibition mounted the American Museum of Natural History on the entire Shackleton voyage. Caroline Alexander, the exhibition curator, wrote her book “The Endurance: Shackleton’s Legendary Antarctic Expedition” in conjunction with this museum effort.

There was a special ice cream social after the lectures; we enjoyed the treat very much and decided it had possibly been offered to calm the mutineers who felt they had been robbed of time by the ailing passenger’s woes. They announced an early “recap and briefing” and an early supper so we could all get a good look at Elephant Island. So after that wonderful ice cream, we were expected at supper at6:30 PM.

ELEPHANT ISLAND

Our first view of the Island, like that of the forlorn, wet, cold and nearly crazed

Shackleton men’s, was of Cape Valentine, on the bleak and lonely north end of the little land mass. The desperate men first landed there but realized very quickly that it would never do for a campsite. The beach was too narrow and would be flooded by any heavy seas and it was actually too small for 22 men to live.

Frank Wild, the second in command scouted around the island until he found a more hospitable beach seven miles away which he named Point Wild. Even this beach is treacherous, only a little above sea level and very small, with a little penguin rookery taking up most of its width.

The beach is backed up by an enormous, brooding black cliff, and flanked by a sizeable glacier. They loaded us into the Zodiacs for a cruise around Point Wild since there was no question of our trying to land on such a small place it hardly accommodated the Endurance’s 28 men, much less our groups of 60.

Our captain performed what we were told was an amazing feat of piloting and got the Hanseatic close in; apparently, no anchorages are charted for this place, so he was using his own unique charts and knowledge.

The seas were quite high as is usual here. As a matter of fact, the marooned men in l915 knew that no ships would ever call at Elephant Island due to the terrible weather and the absence of beaches. That’s why they were totally dependent on the return of their leader, Shackleton.

This hopeless refuge was quite depressing; no wonder some of the men were half mad while they awaited a ship on the horizon. Waves would occasionally break over the narrow spit so the penguins try to put their nests and the kindergartens as high up on the rocky portions as possible.

Shackleton’s men mention in their diaries the conditions of constantly being wet and cold due to the flooding. So they lived in a mixture of seawater, snow, sleet, and hail mixed with mud and penguin guano.

They turned their boats upside down to provide shelter but the downside was that their eyes were always burning and their throats raw with the smoke they produced with seal and penguin blubber fires to cook and keep warm. We were all in awe of the survival instinct these men drew upon in this dreary and despairing spot. The glacier beside their spit of land would often calve, sending great tidal waves over their low-lying campsite.

When they weren’t being buffeted by the waves, the katabatic winds off the glacier would assault their flimsy shelter, tearing the canvas tenting to shreds, lifting any loose belongings and flinging them out to sea where they were lost. The penguins did provide a handy larder for the starving men with their diet being occasionally supplemented with an unlucky seal who beached itself on their sad spit of land.

However, as the months wore on, it was clear that if Shackleton did not return soon, the penguins would leave their rookery because they wintered at sea and the seals would not be hauling out here either. Even the seabirds who nested on the Island would leave them to the mercies of the elements and starvation. Grim as this place is, with its black cliffs, constantly overhanging clouds and fogs, relentless seas rolling over the spit of land, cold temperatures, and constant wet conditions, some of the survivors actually expressed a sadness at leaving their refuge site when Shackleton finally did come. How amazing!

One would have thought they would have left it behind merrily, with great relief, and a desire never to see that godforsaken island again! Frank Wild had daily climbed up the little rocky knoll where the penguins sat and scanned the horizon with the dimming hope of seeing “The Boss.” Daily, he roused the men with the refrain: “Tidy up and stow the gear, the Boss may be coming today!” For 4 ½ months, those men lived with that thought. How they remained sane is an enigma and a miracle. And to think that many of those same men were ready to sail with Shackleton again when he tried to go south yet again six years later! Go figure!

SHIP TROUBLES

With this look at Elephant Island and our thoughts of those desperate survivors, we had a pretty scary experience ourselves that night. We were lying on our beds reading at 11 PM when the lights suddenly went out and the ship yawed sharply to port! We were thrown out of our beds. Totally alarmed, we exclaimed in unison, “What the Hell just happened?” After what seemed like an eternity, but was probably only 60 seconds, the lights came back on and we felt the ship slowly right itself.

The engine pulsing completely stopped so it did not seem that all was well again, especially considering that there was quite a chop in the ocean waves. We quickly put on shoes and parkas over our pajamas and rushed into the gangway to find several fellow passengers milling about trying to figure out what was going on. Worse yet, there was an intense chemical smell in the gangway which made our eyes, noses, and throats smart! We flew up one floor to the Reception Area only to find a young woman whose English was not the best looking at us with bemused eyes as we questioned her as to what had happened and the cause of the smell on our floor. She did not seem to have even registered the “lights out and ship heeling over” episode and just looked at us blankly. The chemical aroma probably came from whatever the sailors used to clean the decks, according to her.

However, we did not buy that for a second since we had been on board l0 days now and had never smelled it before (nor did we ever smell it again during the rest of the cruise). So we hurtled ourselves outside and breathed the fresh ocean air gratefully, but saw that our perception of the ship’s being dead in the water was right. No engine noises and no forward (or backward) motions.

The lifeboats were rocking crazily in their davits and we were left to wonder how they could ever be launched in such seas. Vague memories of books about the sea filtered into our brains causing questions like, “doesn’t the ship need power so that it can head into the waves rather than being hit from the side?” and “have we struck an iceberg” and “what are the words to ‘Nearer My God to Thee’?”

Able to breathe freely again, but still unsatisfied as to what had caused all these almost simultaneous downright frightening occurrences, we went to the top deck to visit the Observation Lounge where the expedition leader and his crew often hung out in the late hours. However, there were only some passengers drinking, playing cards, and chatting as if nothing at all extraordinary had just transpired. The lone waiter also seemed totally normal even though he did have to work at keeping his balance as he ferried drinks and glasses back and forth.

So, without much discussion between us, we sat in a corner and waited for what we knew not: the call to abandon ship, some reassurance on the loudspeaker, some rational explanation from one of the one of the crew or leaders?

About 45 minutes passed with us getting sleepier and sleepier; at least that meant we had not succumbed to panic. Gradually we became aware that the ship was underway again because we felt the pulsing of the engines and felt the forward motion. The Hanseatic is small enough that there is never a time or a place on the ship when we were not able to hear and feel the engines. So we decided that maybe it was time to just go on to bed and trust that everything was under control.

As we started down the stairway back to Deck 4, we met Geoff the Expedition Leader, and he told us that the port screw propeller and shaft had suddenly frozen up which caused the generator it was powering to shut down and the ship to roll over to the port. The emergency generator had started up in about 60 seconds and the starboard screw was turned off, allowing the ship to right itself. After some tinkering by the Engine Room staff, the port screw was restarted (as was the starboard one) and we started moving again. Apparently, the Hanseatic has experienced these engine problems before so none of the crew was alarmed or concerned.

However, we passengers were not so blasé. By the time we returned to our own deck, the noxious odor had entirely dissipated and all the passengers had disappeared into their own cabins. Most surprisingly, we never did get an explanation regarding the alarming smell! However, the rest of the night was entirely without incident—and were we ever relieved!

THE SCOTIA SEA AND THE SOUTH ORKNEY ISLANDS

Day 12 We woke to overcast skies, cool temps (30s) and sloshy seas! We are now in the notorious Scotia Sea which is part of the Southern Ocean. We had lectures on Antarctic meteorites and nautical slang but mostly it was a quiet reading day. So we were both feeling prettygood and Kay managed to go to the dining room for lunch andsupper.

We cruised among the South Orkney Islands in the evening through Normana Strait, All Well Bight, and Washington Strait. Dave had run the British Antarctic Survey Station here and was feeling quite nostalgic as the typical Spartan buildings came into view. He somewhat proudly told us that the South Orkneys actually experience nastier weather than the Peninsula because of their position at the northwest edge of the Weddell Sea. It rains more often, snows more heavily, is foggy and cloudy more continuously. The islands are sealed off more often because of pack ice and icebergs coming out of the Weddell Sea.

Much less chance of seeing blue sky and sunshine here too. The South Orkneys sounded thoroughly unpleasant to us, but Dave practically wept at the cold and foggy sight. Folks infected with “Antarctic Fever” are different from the rest of us they’re crazier!

DAY AT SEA

Day 13 Now we are truly miles from anywhere as we steam across the Scotia Sea towards South Georgia Island. It will take us all day today and the night to reach that green and blessed island. We had four lectures today and it was very hard to stay awake and alert for them because of the terrible night we’d just been through.

Around l1 PM, the winds had picked up significantly as had the seas. Then suddenly, we were in an epic storm we felt like it was the “perfect storm.” We learned this morning that the seas had been 30-35 feet and the winds 90 miles per hour.

Damn! We were on the open ocean in a real hurricane! All we had known last night was that it was difficult to stay in the bed we were rocked and rolled, shook and bounced, literally levitated off the mattress when the ship would rise and slam back into the sea. The cacophony of sounds the ship created was truly uncanny and fearsome snapping,

cracking, moaning, groaning, wailing, screaming, grinding, keening, crashing, banging, screeching. All under the assault by wind and wave which hit the poor Hanseatic from every direction, but apparently mostly abeam which, we were told today, is the very worst direction with regard to the stability of the ship because even the stabilizers don’t helpagainst seas from that direction.

Nothing stayed on any surface of our cabin, including ourselves in our beds, and even the magnetically secured closet and cabinet doors were flung open as if by a giant unseen hand. When we jumped up to look out the window around 3:30 AM, the waves looked like rolling mountains crested with snow and the tops reached above our window; and remember, we were 4 decks from the bottom of the ship.

The hurricane must have moved on about 6:30 because we both fell into a fitful sleep until about 8:30 AM. Today even the “old salts” among the crew and expedition leaders were not trying to pretend that the storm had been really nothing. Everyone was agog at the wild night we had endured.

This night had convinced Kay and I even more that we are NOT sailors and do not want to be! During the night, neither of us had been ill. Maybe seasickness and fear were inside and only one can win the battle? Now, however, Kay was feeling a bit queasy and elected to avoid any place where lots of food would be presented. Therefore, she ate very little today. She listened to the lectures in the room and had them bring her a baked potato for supper. Towards bedtime, it started pitching a bit again and we are both prayerful that it won’t kick up into the violence of last night. We are supposed to be first at any early morning landing at South Georgia tomorrow and we have decided that we will be ready to fight for our position in the Zodiac line-up. And we will be ready to kiss the solid ground we land on, even if it’s covered with penguin poop! That’s how much we want off this ship that is never still

SOUTH GEORGIA ISLAND

Days 14 16 Solid ground beneath our feet and blue sky overhead how could that ever be bested?! How about by temperatures in the 50s and sunshine to boot? Mountains in the background, topped with snow, glaciers both marine and hanging, waterfalls sparkling in the sunlight, green, marvelous green, growing things everywhere we looked, real sand and rock beaches, with a turquoise sea all around.

We arrived at Grytviken early in the morning and looked out at the amazing scene before us. A large and quiet bay with the little town encircling it. However, the grim reminders of the whaling days, that ended here in the l960s, were the leaning, crumbling and rusting buildings gradually being erased by Mother Nature.

GRYTVIKEN MUSEUM

This is an excellent museum commemorating whaling days, depicting Shackleton’s involvement with South Georgia and exemplifying all the marine life around the island.

Tim and Pauline Carr, who have planned, assembled and now curate the museum, are English in their late 50s who have been living on South Georgia for ten years. at first were by themselves but were joined by the younger couple for the past five years.

The four British civilians act as fisheries manager, postmistress, museum curators and caretakers, chief scientists and researchers, land managers, tourist officials, and general stewards of the whole island. The military help where they can, but are mainly there to “protect” the island from any further Argentinean adventurism.

The Carrs have published a wonderful book called “Antarctic Oasis” and once you have visited this sublime place you acknowledge the accuracy of the title. Of course, we bought a copy at the museum gift shop as well as a couple of other items, all in support of the operations on the island. Since South Georgia is a British Dependency along with the Falklands, there is a subsidy from the British Government as well. However, much more needs to be done here chiefly in the area of rat eradication.

The rats are threatening the nesting birds more than any other factor but it will cost millions to create a rat-free environment. Some of the smaller out-islands, like Sea Lion, Prion, and others have been cleared of the rodents which were brought here by the whaling ships and other vessels; they are not native to South Georgia but unfortunately, they do thrive there. We explored the area in the misty rain and admired its amazing beauty even without sunlight. The grasses are thick and luxuriant, the mosses are varied in kinds and richly thatch the rocky ground, and the non-native plants show flowers and colors not natural to the place.

THE LUTHERAN CHURCH

The tiny Lutheran Church built in l913 has been lovingly renovated and stands as a memorial to the folks who lived a tough life here.

The little cemetery situated a bit further along the arc of the bay contains graves of sailors from the late 1900s and even up to the l980s when an Its annex filled with library books in several languages gives testimony to the need for intellectual as well as spiritualstimulation.

SIR ERNEST SHACKLETON GRAVE.

The graveyard is surrounded by a white wooden fence. This final resting place is set amid piles of elephant seals, continuously producing their rude bodily sounds and little clutches of fur seals youngsters arfing and bluff-charging anything that moves. The green hills rise to the mountains beyond with white caps on their rocky tops. We thought, “what a perfect setting for ‘The Boss’ to take his rest.” However, he would probably prefer a harsher spot, covered in snow and ice devoid of life and activity.

South Georgia in summer looks altogether too “soft” for him. The soccer field proved that though whalers and fishermen worked very hard, they also played hard as well. However, it is hard to imaginethat they could have played outside all year long.

Pictures of South Georgia in winter at the museum show a completely different world from what we were seeing totally white except where the wreckage of the whaling station and the few occupied buildings stick out of the snow. Temperatures would be much fiercer as well. However, maybe the winter world had its compensations in keeping down the odors of the station and allowing the men more rest from physical activity. It must be truly beautiful in its pristine whiteness but even so a little forbidding.

We saw some forlorn king penguins standing about in little clots, rather morosely finishing up their molting. Strange patterns of fluff stuck out from their usually immaculately clean and smooth feathers so that they looked unkempt and bulky. The old feathers apparently are pushed out by the emerging new ones so it doesn’t help them to try to rub or pluck the molting ones off. So the poor birds just have to be patient even though they are hungry as they cannot go into the water in this condition. They looked extremely bored.

We got back on board Hanseatic in a slight drizzle for a before lunch meeting with the two couples who “own” South Georgia. They brought all the souvenirs and items we passengers had purchased in the museum gift found ways to play when on shore. They also consented to each give us a little talk about their lives on the island.

One of the things we have been impressed with is how small the Antarctic community of humans really is. When these folks meet one another in these unlikely spots, they are genuinely happy and pick up conversations as though it had been only yesterday when they last talked. So Tim and Pauline spoke first and then Pat and Sarah.

Each couple had sailed here in private, very small, yachts and so loved the place they could not leave. They perform a variety of duties in connection with their official residence. At lunch, they were fun to watch because they were obviously relishing the chance at fresh fruits and veggies. Such items are a luxury on the island and they really tucked in and enjoyed them with each of them going several times to the buffet bars.

While we were eating our own delicacies, Geoff sat with us a moment to change our decisions not to take the Shackleton hike. We had decided not to go with the group on the 2½ mile hike to follow the route Shackleton and his two companions took into Stromness Whaling Station. He had asked everyone to objectively assess their fitness level because it would be strenuous and besides it was wet and raining. He merely asked if we were going and when we said that we weren’t, he assured us that we would have no trouble at all with the hike; so, of course, we immediately decided to go, succumbing so easily to his flattery.

Following that satisfying stroll on terra firma, we had fallen in love with South Georgia!

DRYGALSKI FJORD

Next, the Hanseatic took us on a cruise of Drygalski Fjord for close ups of more glorious scenery with cliffs plunging straight into the sea and glaciers spilling into the bay creating lovely colors of aqua, teal, turquoise and aquamarine as their fresh water filled with glacial “milk” floated on top of the heavier salt water of the sea. The two glaciers at the head of the fjord were particularly impressive, huge and intensely riddled with electric blue caves and crevasses.

GOLD HARBOR

After lunch, our next landing was Gold Harbor and this was my favorite place up to that point. It had a huge beach, wide along the water and deep back into the mountains. The beach had sand and flat rocks that were quite easy on the hiking feet. The soaring Georgia Alps surrounded the beach dramatically. And the critter encounters were really special here. The young fur seals were so curious and charged at everything that moved “red penguin people,” the Gentoo and King penguins, the skuas, just about everything. They were easy to divert from their violent purpose the penguins just pecked at them and we just waved our arms and shouted and they immediately backed off (though we did have to guard against sneak attacks from behind).

There were a huge number of Elephant seals here too. They were not charged by the young fur seals; I suppose their size protects them as males weigh about 900 pounds and females about 700. The males were very jealous of their “personal space” and would challenge other males who invaded that territory. They would rear up against each other and open their huge mouths with the formidable teeth and thrash away with hoarse barks and coughs. Then, as quickly as the spat broke out the huge creatures would flop down right next to each other; indeed they would even pile on top of one another.

We never saw any blood drawn possibly because it is not yet mating season The younger males just lay about on the shore scratching at their molting skin and napping quietly. The females were not on this beach with all the fellows. Elephant seals make very rude bodily noises all the time stomach rumblings, burps, shorts, sneezes, barks, coughs, snuffles, and even farts. However, they are totally untroubled by our ideas of what is permissible in society.

The other wonderment here at Gold Harbor was the enormous king penguin colony. There were thousands of birds, covering the beach, the hillsides and making them a patchwork of gray and white, depending on which side of the penguin was facing the beach they have mottled gray feathers on their backs and cloud white feathers on their fronts. They were also exhibiting all stages of penguin life cycles.

Some were courting, some were actually mating, some were laying eggs, some were sitting eggs, or even chicks, some were ashore because they themselves were molting and could not go to sea. But best of all were the “wooly-boolys” the absolutely adorable fledging chicks who were fully covered with chocolate-brown downy feathers. They are often larger than the adults and are just so much fun to watch. They are hungry all the time as young birds always are and kept begging any adult to feed them. However, they have no chance of cadging a bite from anybody except their own Mom and Dad.

They walk determinedly along behind the adults, following closely and matching step for step. They look like little old men in dark overcoats toddling along the city streets, resignedly persistent in their determination to get somewhere despite the slow pace.

Courtship is a very interesting procedure. Groups form and it is impossible for us to tell how many males and females there are. All sorts of behaviors go on: head bobbing, neck stretching and scrunching, walking in tandem mirroring each other’s strides, neck nuzzling, bill pointing, crossing, and clacking, as well as trumpeting, and displaying their bright orange neck spots. They seem to be playing “follow the leader” because they imitate each other so perfectly.

When two birds decide that this courtship is maturing, they begin to drive the others who may still be in the grouping away, mostly by raucous cries and flailing at the interlopers with their wing/flippers. They strike each other so smartly that the victims do back away and try to form another group elsewhere.

Then the two left to get down to more serious business this time tracking each other’s moves even more strictly. The neck nuzzling gets more forceful and then the sexual difference becomes obvious as the male tries to push the female to the group by the neck nuzzling.

It was fascinating to see the males and females taking care of the egg once it was laid. Like emperor penguins, the egg is incubated on the feet of the bird covered by a “curtain” of the flesh and feathers which hold against the body of the incubating bird. In Kings, though, both males and females take turns at this job whereas only the male Emperor takes on this duty. So with the kings, each sex has a slit-like opening on the lower pelvis which can be controlled muscularly by the bird. So the incubating opens the curtain and let the egg further out onto his feet and the receiving bird opens the slit and with their beaks, they roll the egg onto the other set of feet and then into that slit for incubation. This goes on for about 2 months until the chick is ready to hatch. It remains in that situation until it is fully down-covered and then it emerges and enters the kindergarten.

King penguin calls are interesting too. The males trumpet in a three-syllable cry and the females in two. The chicks burble to each other and whistle to the adults. It’s amazing that the parents recognize each other by the cries and that the babies and parents know one another through these sounds as well to our ears it all sounds exactly the same. We can distinguish adult from chick sounds but that is all the differentiation our ears permit. We had a real concert at Gold Harbor, with the penguins singing, the elephant seals conducting “intestinal warfare,” the fur seals arfing, barking, and hissing, and the many seabirds screeching, crying into the wind, and calling. The noise on the beach was deafening but wondrous in its proof of the resilience and persistence of life without any human intervention!

Day 15 Yesterday was so perfect that we wouldn’t have dared to ask for the same again and we didn’t get it. The day dawned rainy and overcast but still relatively warm. We actually were hot in our parkas today with temps in the 50s. Our night anchored in Gold Harbor was so quiet that we slept like the elephant seals just gorked out after the riotous nights before.

THE SHACKLETON WALK

And what a tremendous hike it was! We were so glad that he sat with us for that brief moment but long enough to get us on track. We were in pouring down rain most of the time, though occasionally the weather gods would add some snow, sleet, hail, and even fog. We discovered then that the ship’s parkas are not waterproof, not even really water- resistant. But we were warm enough in them, what with all the exercise. The hike up was quite challenging though not arduous.

The uphill was pretty steady but the difficulty was in the footing rather than the climb. We were walking on shale rocks which were unstable and pretty tricky. The scenery was magnificent all around. It was quite lifeless up at the top and with the fog-bank rolling in it even looked a bit menacing. But we were reliving that fateful Shackleton walk and trying to imagine how those exhausted men must have felt knowing by this time that the goal was almost within sight.

When we rounded Crean’s Lake where Tom Crean had fallen through the ice and had to be rescued. He then had the rest of the walk to do in freezing cold wet clothing.

At the top of the saddle, we looked down on the glacial stream and out into the bay. What exhilaration he must had felt at seeing human habitation. The climb down from the heights was difficult enough for us, but what they did sounds almost impossible. We had to negotiate a very steep snow field in our mud-boots and then plunge down the rest of the way on very unstable, slippery, flat, wet shale stones, all the while having the rain and fog in our faces and eyes. They, on the other hand, had to rappel down a frozen waterfall with only one rope between them. And they had to do this when they were completely exhausted and starving! So, there was no comparison in our efforts and theirs but it was very satisfying to walk the very stones they walked and enjoy the view they were appreciating, knowing that for them, it meant ultimate survival.

Our greatest trial during the hike came when we were on the flat ground walking along the braided stream just meandering and discussing how much more impressed we are with Shackleton survival story now that we have actually seen the places in which the drama had taken place. As we were strolling along the streamside on moss and tussock ground, I suddenly stepped in a hole hidden by a thick lid of green foliage and fell in up to my chest. Kay exclaimed, “What the heck . . .? and fell in herself right beside me, but only up to her waist. As we tried to pull our legs back out, we could feel the boots being sucked off our feet as well as the other foot and leg going in deeper! We quickly realized that this was not really funny since it was not absolutely clear how we were going to extricate ourselves. It was not easy to find solid ground to push against with our arms in order to haul ourselves out. And we had to keep our feet flexed so the boots would not come off. Of course, that position only made pulling our legs out that much harder.

We were out in a few moments and gratefully standing on solid ground and realizing that the predicament could have been much worse had we sunk in any deeper or not been able to keep the boots on. When we looked back at the area in which we had stepped, it was not apparent at all there was a large treacherous “hole” beneath the grassy ground. Recognizing our good (and bad) luck, we walked the rest of the way back on the gravelly stones of the streambed, refusing the trust the softer, easier way alongside on the grasses. Since our fellow hikers were no longer in a group, there was no one to warn those coming up behind us; besides, we could no longer tell exactly where we had fallenin.

During that surprising misadventure, the camera I borrowed from Betsy for the trip was immersed in the fresh water since it was hanging around my neck and reached to midbelly. Needless to say, that camera died on the hike into Stromness. The bay loomed ahead and we kept walking.

Finally, we reached the stony beach, littered with quarrelsome fur seal youngsters of all ages, and there on our right was the derelict Stromness Whaling Station, which must have looked like a paradise to Shackleton. Where we saw death and destruction of not only the great whales but now of the “mighty works of man,” those three men were looking at “civilization,” a human abode, where for them waited rescue food, shelter, warmth, rest, and clean clothing! It is such a testament to the British customs and manners of the time that Shackleton walked to the end of the Station where the manager’s house lay, knocked at the door and waited for it to be answered.

Naturally, he and all the men on the Endurance had already been presumed dead, so there was certainly no way that the manager would have thought to guess that the cadaverous, filthy, blackened-face man was Ernest Shackleton and some of his crew!

When the Norwegian whalers came to realize who these men were and what lay behind the fact of their standing before them, many wept. Shackleton’s survival story will live in the annals of exploration as long as men read such stories.

And we were privileged to walk just a couple of miles in his steps! Soaked to the skin as we were when we returned to the ship, we too enjoyed the blessings of civilization. What an exciting and satisfyingday!

SALISBURY PLAIN

Day 16 The day was already bright with sunshine when we awoke about 7 AM. We got to the lovely Salisbury Plain early in the morning with blue skies overhead. This is the biggest beach we have seen so far the longest, widest and deepest. And it seemed that every part of it was covered with king penguins. This is their largest rookery on South Georgia. The bluffs behind the beach are brown-green covered with the by now familiar mosses and grasses. The Alps stood out behind them with their white faces glistening in thesun.

Everywhere we looked were these wonderful birds! Again, as at Gold Harbor, we saw every stage in their life cycle from courting to fledging chicks and on to molting. However, familiarity does not breed boredom here. There is too much noise, too much activity, too many picture ops, and too much plain fun. The most delightful fun we had here was watching one especially engaging chick following along behind an adult who never did feed him or even acknowledge his existence. But that wooly-booly never gave up and just kept plodding along matching the adult’s every step and movement. We were so tickled that we convulsed with laughter.

PRION ISLAND

Then they called us back on the ship so that we could move anchor and visit Prion Island about 3 miles away from the Salisbury Plain. This rat-free island off the big South Georgia Island was going to be our one chance to see the wandering albatrosses on their nests not to mention its tiny cousin, the improbably placed songbird, the South Georgia pipit.

Of course, we were met by the now usual welcoming committee of fur seals, month olds and yearlings mostly. The perturbing consequences of the huge explosion in the fur seal population were very evident here. There were fur seals all the way up the heights we climbed to see the albatross. Normally, the fur seals would not ever climb so high in the islands, but now they needed places for their babies to hide and rest in the tussock grasses. Even the elephant seals had hauled their enormous bulks to considerable heights. This leaves less and less space for the albatross and other seabirds tonest.

The seals do not actually menace the birds, but they do take up more than their fair share of the extremely limited spots to roost. After climbing up the slippery, muddy, tussock lined streamlet, we reached the heights of the island and there were saw 9

nesting wandering albatross. They are magnificent birds, much larger than they look following the ship and riding the drafts caused by our wake. We were amazed by their 11-foot wingspan as we watched them perched atop their foot high nests of dried grasses, kelp and mosses. We looked into their lovely faces and knew why they captured the imagination of sailors and poets alike. No wonder the sailors wanted to believe that if they died at sea their souls would enter the bodies of the great bird and be borne to heaven. In a more earthly vein, however, we learned that they return to the same nest year after year with the same partners.

Their sinuous and wonderfully varied “dances” bind the couples together for that first mating and then every time they return from the sea they repeat the steps to “identify” one another. We saw some of the “return greetings” going on as one bird would relieve the other on the nest. Klemens told us that the birds sit their eggs for two weeks and then frantically feed the chick for a month and then actually abandon it for the 5 months of winter. The bereft chick sits and waits for the parents to feed him for that long period: some parents never return to provision their chicks, some come back once or twice only during that long fast. So the chick waits perhaps in vain for its parents but with surety and spring will come again. He/she exercises those enormous wings and then sets sail for the open ocean where it will remain for as much as seven years without ever touching land during thattime.

These youngsters are not taught how to fly, how to soar, how to feed, how to rest, how to find their way back to land when the time is right. Mother Nature is apparently their only true parent after one month of age. Wandering albatross, black-browed albatross and lightly mantled albatross all nest here in the environs of South Georgia. The “wandering” is the only species whose numbers are going down and much of the cause has been learned by the dedicated scientists and observers.

We met two ladies who conduct counts yearly of the birds who return and then of their successful breeding. They live on a tiny yacht and, again, as is the Antarctic reality, they were well known to Dave and Klemens with whom we were hiking. They all fell into conversation as easily as they would if they had dinner together the night before.

The problem for the albatross is the long line fishing. It seems that the males fly south to feed and thereby avoid contact with fishing. However, the females fly north and are entrapped in the lines and drown. Simple and inexpensive ways to prevent these unhappy accidents have been developed since the occasion for entrapment last only during the first 5 minutes the lines are being let out and many fishermen are now cooperating with the scientists to prevent this threat to the species. Already, the numbers of returning females have improved by 20%, so it is hoped that the problem has been solved and the numbers will continue to rise.

The poor little pipit, which many an avid birder wants to add to his life list, is a rather unprepossessing looking robin-sized dun-colored bird with a very pale yellow breast. However, the very fact of his existence is the amazing thing a songbird in the Antarctic. He flits about among the fur and elephant seals and under the royal nose of the giant albatross nesting in the tussock grasses and eating the insects which do live at the latitude of South Georgia. We felt thrilled to see him too even in his diminutiveness.

KING HAAKONBAY

The next plan was to enjoy a zodiac cruise to Cave Cove in King Haakon Bay where Shackleton first beached the James Caird after their arrival in South Georgia. Later they moved their camp seven miles further up into the bay to Camp Peggoty so they would have close access to the mountains they were going to have to climb to get to Stromness on the other side of the island. That would have been wonderful indeed, but again the wind and waves played us foul and made it impossible. So we had to look out at King Haakon Bay at dinner time and imagine how the beach looked when Shackleton and his two doughty companionsarrived.

Our “Shackleton Dinner” began with a greeting from Dave dressed as an Antarctic explorer complete with “frostbitten toes,” beard and glacier goggles. He was housed on the deck in an old tent full of tatters and decorated with old maps, a Union Jack, tin cans, bits of bone. After dinner, we realized that we were not leaving anchorage as had been announced. Instead, the ship stayed still though we occasionally heard the screws working. Later, we learned that a screw had frozen again and the captain sent divers below to see if the shaft or propeller needed to be freed from something. That not

being the problem, they just moved the ship forward and backward a bit until whatever was wrong righted itself and we sailed off into the night -heading for theFalklands.

During this interlude, we happened to meet Dave in one of the gangways and got into a conversation regarding his other current pursuits in addition to going along as history buff on Antarctic cruises. He and five other folks have a company whose mission is to help get scientists and students on the ice for their studies. He works primarily with university programs in Germany and England. His company handles all the logistics of putting the scientists into the area where they plan to perform their experiments in things such as glaciology, zoology, weather, etc. That means that this company provides all the supplies they will need, the transportation to get there, the shelter, food, protective clothing, and the like to support the studies. In performing this very necessary and helpful function, Dave is obviously drawing on his years of experience running British Antarctic Survey posts doing just exactly that type of thing in additionto running the stations themselves.

Here are several of his comments I found interesting:

Three people have died on the Hanseatic of natural causes within 1-2 days of arrival on the boat. The deceased is “housed” in the freezer until return to port. Logistically speaking, it is much easier to deal with the above circumstance than with serious illness or injury, requiring evacuation.

He considered the best polar research was done about 5 years ago (1997) He thinks there is less politics in polar science today than in the past. The only US college currently involved in polar research is the University of Minnesota.

The next worrisome factor in Antarctic preservation is the coming visitation by much larger cruise ships: medical evacuation will be a problem, too many people on the small amount of ground, big ships getting into tight places and needing help, more waste disposal problems.

Another growing problem is the number of private yachts visiting the Antarctic once again, it is the rescue demand and the possible damage caused by heedless or careless visitors and the lack of policing powers in the Antarctic Treaty.

ANOTHER TWO DAYS AT SEA

Day 17 The seas were rough and the skies cloudy as we headed towards the Falklands through the mighty Scotia Sea. Kay was able to eat breakfast this morning: eggs, toast, fruit, and juice, then she had fruit for lunch, and then only a baked potato in the cabin. The heavy seas just killed her appetite, both for food and for the places where food could be seen or smelled.

Magnificent seabirds have been following us since we left South Georgia. We are at a loss to determine why and our shipboard experts don’t really know why they do either.

Mainly we are seeing albatrosses of various kinds and petrels. No matter how the winds blow or the waves dance, the birds stick with us. We chiefly did lectures again today, as usual on sea days.

We did lots of reading and Kay mostly slept to avoid being seasick. Lots of folks on board are sick today or too queasy to want to leave their rooms, so the dining areas are pretty empty. Many people also prefer taking the lectures in their cabins as well rather than venturing down to Darwin Hall theater. Kay was one of the TV watchers and I stayed in and looked at the couple with her too. Everyone is hoping for calmer waters tomorrow and there is reason behind the hope as we will soon be crossing the Antarctic Convergence where the Atlantic and the Southern Oceans meet and merge and then we will be in the South Atlantic which is usually much more peaceful than the Southern Ocean.

Day 18 The seas were bouncy last night but nothing like the worst we have experienced. However, I was unable to sleep until the wee small hours because it was just too hard to stay in bed; you had to concentrate on your balance and your position. Kay, however, was able to sleep through it all and then woke up ready to go to breakfast before goingto the morning lecture. Again, they kept us busy with lectures all day.

One lecture centered on the disembarkation process at Stanley in the Falklands and another was a presentation from Klemens requesting support for his summer and winter penguin research projects. He was basically asking for dollars to purchase either device which the penguins swallowed so that their food intake could be checked these would be used during summer or for a satellite transmitting device to track where the Rockhopper penguins go during the winter.

Later in the day, we even took the galley tour which I don’t think she could have managed before. The biggest challenge the chef faces is keeping fresh foods fresh for 18 days! But he said the second biggest problem is getting the fresh foods in the first place and in sufficient quantities. He plans all the menus and must have contingency menus available when fresh food runs out or is about to spoil because it has not been eaten rapidly enough. He has a very modern and compact kitchen, with an ASAP dishwasher which actually washes, sterilizes, rinses and dries the dishes in one minute flat. Wouldn’t we love to have that appliance at home?

The kitchen also contains two waste processors, one for food and the other for solid trash, since nothing can be disposed of in Antarctic waters. The processors make the waste into little bricks which can be disposed of at ports of call where arrangements have been made to accept the material.

We bought some raffle tickets, the proceeds of which go half to the crew for special outings and half to the UK Antarctic Heritage Trust. Needless to say, we could have just handed our money over directly since we won nothing! The winner got the map which had been posted at Reception every day giving the detailed course of our cruise. The winner of the raffle was announced at the Captain’s Farewell Champagne Party and the winner decided to auction the map off so that more money could be put into the crew’s fund and the UK Antarctic Trust a lady divorce lawyer made the highest bid of $1000.00 and got to take the map home with her.

We had a delicious dinner with a group of folks and enjoyed the company and the conversation. Then the Crew Chanty Choir performed for our entertainment and it was really good fun. Dave sang several sea chanties in a very good baritone and Larry the Filipino crooner was quite good as well. Geoff sang a couple of ditties, accompanying himself on the guitar; he sang Gordon Lightfoot and the “Ballad of the Edmund Fitzgerald”. The Chief Navigation Officer was the emcee and he was genuinely quite funny. The chef sang some German drinking songs and even the Captain joined the chorus of crew, seamen, expedition staff in the choruses.

We laughed a lot and enjoyed the evening greatly!

THE FALKLAND ISLANDS

SEA LION ISLAND

Day 19 The Falkland Islands Our initial landing in the Falklands was on Sea Lion Island, a little piece of real estate off the coast of the bigger islands where we were to see you guessed it the sea lions. We had a chance to see orcas here as well.

It was a great landing under partly sunny skies and we were rewarded with a wonderful hike with lots of critters sightings. It was a good long walk, actually quite enjoyable after two days at sea; we were so happy to have our feet on solid ground again!

There were many interesting birds to watch, including the Upland Geese, the Falkland caracara, and the Falkland thrush, ruddy-headed and kelp geese, Gentoo and Magellanic penguins, rock cormorants, steamer ducks, tussock birds, Falkland plovers, kelp gulls, and even a peregrine falcon. The elephant seals and the sea lions were below the high bluffs we walked along sunning themselves on the rocky beaches. The sea lions had babies on the beach, all cuddled together in great heaps and masses. Some of the males were seemingly on patrol, perhaps to guard against the orcas coming up on shore and taking a baby or two.

Klemens told us that the orcas have proven to be very sneaky hunters. They will work in pairs with one orca going up and down off shore so that its dorsal fin is clearly obvious. The beach critters get lulled into thinking they are safe as long as they can see the upraised fin. Meanwhile, the second whale approaches shore on its side so that the dorsal fin is hidden and then explodes up on the beach to take the unwary prey! Clever and deadly!

FALKLANDS WAR OF 1982

On this walk, we got to see some of the first good things which resulted from the horrible Falklands War of 1982. The Argentines planted plastic-coated landmines all over the islands, both the main ones and many of the out islands. The good citizens have been able to map the areas where mines are suspected and these have been cordoned off with high fences and BIG warning signs with fines issued for trespass if the miscreant isn’t killed. This has inadvertently created “islands” of conservation areas where the tussock grasses and all their normal denizens have been able to return. The sheep, horses, and cattle rarely stray into these areas and no one goes to get them if they do. Meantime, the little oases are thriving and returning part of the Falklands back to their pre- sheep grazing condition. The tussock grasses grow high enough that a short person could become lost to view in waving tops. They also grow very thickly so that the creatures who need them for habitat find shelter and safety there. What a strange example of the law of unintended consequences.

There are several other advantages that the Falklanders have enjoyed since the war They have new primary and secondary school buildings, a new and enclosed sports

center, a new hospital staffed with four physicians and visiting specialists on a monthly basis, a permanent military base where about 1500 men and their families are stationed with a bowling alley and movie theater which the locals are encouraged to use. In addition, students can go to England for free college education and are afforded two free trips back and forth during the school year. Graduate students are entitled to one free roundtrip. Anyone needing medical care is flown to England or to Montevideo, Uruguay for free. Folks with chronic conditions can flyto England for consultation and care.

It’s obvious that the UK has decided to keep its interests in these parts by maintaining these citizens in grand style down here. In some ways, Stanley resembled Reykjavik with older buildings faced with corrugated tin and others of stone. Many were painted in pastel colors to relieve that drab look that really cold places can have. The kit houses are of darker wood construction but even they have gaily colored shutters and eaves. The restaurants, gift stores, bars, etc., also demonstrate the determination to have color in the lives of the citizens.

BLEAKER ISLAND

We returned to the Hanseatic for lunch after which we were supposed to get another landing at Bleaker Island where we were to see the Rockhopper penguins. We had really been looking forward to seeing these wonderfully zany looking birds. They have orange, yellow, and black long feather alongside their eyes and also making wild eyebrows, creating a wonderfully comic appearance. These penguins are the only ones currently endangered and the ones Klemens will be studying this year. Bleaker Island would be our only chance to see them.

However, the ocean played one last dirty trick on us and we were unable to make a landing on the island due to big rollers and high winds. That was a big disappointment indeed. Also, the fact that we really didn’t get much time on the Falklands anywhere was also rather sad. Oh well, maybe another time. There was a final recap and briefing where everybody thanked everybody and expressed our pleasure at the trip together. Then we watched on deck as our ship entered the Narrows at Port Stanley and dock at the pier. Geoff organized some buses to take interested folks into the town of Stanley for pub crawling, but we decided we didn’t

care since we would be visiting the little town the next day. Besides which, it was simply pouring down rain. So we went to the cabin and miraculously fitted all our clothes into the suitcases which had to be put outside the cabin by 10 PM. The Zodiac backpack we bought certainly came in handy since it gave us extra space for the few things we had purchased and allowed us to keep our pajamas and toiletries with us overnight.

STANLEY

Day 20 We had our last meal on the Hanseatic at 7:15 AM and then awaited our bus call for the trip into Stanley for official disembarkation. The buses took us to the center of this very small town (2200) that is for sure the southernmost capital city in the world. We were given a couple of hours to explore the neat, very British little city to see their very good municipal museum and to buy a couple of souvenirs as the shops were all open early to receive us and our money.

We visited the Anglican Cathedral, a large and grand church made of stones and fronted with crossed whale ribs as an entryway to the gardens.

The little Catholic church was surprisingly simple and made of wood.

There were flowers blooming The streets were neat and spotless Many homes are kit structures. The kits were donated and shipped to the Falklanders after the l982 War by Swedish citizens.

After purchasing a couple of souvenir items and getting a snack at one of the two hotels in the Island, the Upland Goose, we were put back on the buses for the 25 mile ride out to Mount Pleasant Airport on the military base. We were toured around the town before heading out into “camp” as the Falklanders call anywhere in the islands other than Stanley. We were able to appreciate their wonderful snug natural 6 mile long harbor surrounded on three sides by the East Island.

The ride out to the base took about an hour over a very dusty unpaved road. But it gave us the opportunity to see quite a bit of “camp” on the way. Again, we saw the minefield cordoned-off areas where the tussock grasses are thriving. Our tour guide told us that a horse had wandered into one of these areas and refused to come out for 18 months. Even though the site was thought to contain only one landmine, the horse was not disturbed by humans coming in to get it. So the horse enjoyed his leisure time and then one day decided to come out, unharmed, on his own. So even the domestic life is enjoying the advantages of the “conservation areas.”

The camp is hilly, dry, windswept, treeless, pale green and rocky really worthless for man except for sheep grazing. Of course, the animals and plants that nature placed on the islands like it just fine and do not find it useless. One of the strange things we saw on that trip was the so-called “rivers of rock”. These are bizarre ribbons of quartzite that fractured during the last ice age and are now being revealed through erosion. The formation appears as if the rocks were actually running downhill toward the sea in rivulets. Very peculiar and dramatic.

There are many acres of peat on the Falklands. Each islander has the right to a certain amount of it per year to burn for heating. That's the good part of peat's ability to catch fire. The downside is that the same thing can happen in the wild when lightning strikes the ground. The resultant fire can then follow the seams of peat underground. And since the seams are burning below ground, they are the very devil to putout.

We saw lots of smoke along the ground on our ride and were told that these fires had been burning for twenty years with no hope of man ever putting them out. The airport at Mount Pleasant is very small so we waited outside most of the time in the warm sunshine.

When weighing the luggage time came, Kay and I won hands down and saw the wonder in the eyes of the personnel at the airport and our fellow travelers.

Our combined luggage weight was 26 pounds. Most other passengers had several suitcases weighing that much each. No one came close to our “minimalist packing.”

THE FLIGHT

Our flight to Santiago was quite rewarding. Not only did we get lunch but we also had enormous feasts for the eyes as we flew over the Andes and up their spine. Such gorgeous alpine scenery with emerald tarns, snow-filled craters, hanging glaciers, snowcone topped volcanoes, and forests on the mountain slopes. It was the most beautiful flight we’ve ever rivaled only by Wilbur Airlines flight from Cordova toAnchorage.

We were met at the Santiago airport and taken to the Radisson Hotel that is situated in a lovely, affluent part of town. It's really a business district adjacent to upscale residential areas. After settling in, we became hungry and asked about places to eat, expecting to be told about the Hotel’s own snack/coffee bar. But as it turned out, they didn't have one. So they told us we could walk a few blocks to a street where there were many places to eat. The girl at the desk assured us it was perfectly safe and so we headed out into the night. It was not totally dark and very mild. Pleasant weather - perfect for awalk.

We easily found Avenida el Bosque and all its many restaurants. There we fell into Sebastian’s which became headquarters for us in Santiago. It had a lovely patio where we could eat and watch the Chileans go by. The food was just what we wanted ham and cheese sandwiches and diet coke. We spent an hour or so watching the folks of all ages eating scrumptious ice cream concoctions and walking up and down the lovely street.

The rest of this marvelous journey in Chile is in a separate book. Enjoy. We certainly did.