Antarctica - Small Ship Expedition

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January 10 — at sea

 

Although we made no landings, the pace aboard the ship slowed down only a tiny bit. Off-ship activities were replaced by lectures. The icebergs of the day before were long behind us; our entertainment on deck consisted of birds in flight. We used the day to recover from our exhausting schedule on SGI and rest up for the activities ahead.

 

January 11 — meeting the Adélies

 

After a reasonably calm crossing, we arrived at the South Orkney Islands. Although there was only one mid-morning landing scheduled, we were on deck bright and early. The attraction: icebergs, icebergs and more icebergs in the Washington Strait.

 

Some were dirty; some were pristine. Some were flat-topped, reminding us of gigantic aircraft carriers; some were not. Some were uninhabited; some were occupied by penguins hitching a ride. Some were white; some were blue; some were marbled like soft-serve ice cream — except that they were rock hard — and some were stained guano-pink. Some were far; some were close; some were closer still. Some were new; some were old and scarred by the battles they had fought with the waves and winds. They all had one thing in common — they were huge! So much so that our minds had trouble processing the sights around us. We had noticed this on SGI as well. Everything was bigger than life. And, it was about to get even bigger!

 

Shingle Cove: This small cove on Coronation Island was the site of our only landing in the South Orkneys and our first encounter with the Adélie penguins, named by explorer Dumont D’Urville for his wife. The Adélies are one of two species of penguins that make their home only in the Antarctic. [We may have seen an immature emperor penguin, the other Antarctic-only penguin, swimming in the ocean, but there was considerable debate about it possibly being a king penguin.]

 

Unlike the other penguins we had seen already, we found this species to be very active, waddling about from one place to another as fast as their short legs could carry them. Seeing them moving about at a smart pace, going to and fro between the sea and their nests, I was reminded of a description of these birds from Dr Edward Wilson’s journal: “They are extraordinarily like children, or like old men, full of their own importance and late for dinner, in their black tail-coats and white shirt-fronts — and rather portly withal.” [Dr Wilson was the zoologist on Scott’s ill-fated attempt to reach the South Pole; Scott, Wilson, and three companions died on the trip back from the Pole.]

 

It was a delight to perch on one of the rocks and just enjoy the activity all around me. There were chicks chasing parents for a bite to eat; adult penguins chasing scavenging skuas and vice-versa; sad looking chicks who had obviously had a close encounter with the guano-laced muck; penguins preening and showing off their brilliant white chests to guano-pink chested birds that were on nest duty. It was a thrilling site to enjoy; even on a mostly overcast day.

 

Although we would like to have stayed the rest of the day on this island, we had miles to go if we were to make our “hoped-for” landing the next day at a historically-significant site. Detouring to a rock in the bay where a lone Weddell seal, the only one we were to see on the trip, was sunning itself, we returned to the ship and weighed anchor to resume our voyage south.

 

We spent the rest of the day watching icebergs … icebergs … and more icebergs; they came in all shapes and sizes. Having calved off one of the ice shelves — most likely the Ronne Ice Shelf in the Weddell Sea — these bergs were caught in the currents of the Southern Ocean. They were helplessly following a path that would some day lead to their demise as the ravages of wind and ocean took their toll. We were at times entertained by porpoising penguins, but there was no sign of the whales that had made a brief showing early that morning.

 

NEXT: THE TRIP - An Elephant in the Antarctic

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January 12 — an elephant in the Antarctic

 

In seas that were slightly choppy at times and calm as a pond at other times, we arrived at Elephant and Clarence islands in the South Shetlands. The sunshine from the previous day had been replaced by clouds and the overcast remained with us for most of the day.

 

The island got its name from the elephant seals that were spotted here by Captain George Powell in 1821. That said, it seems an odd coincidence that the shape of the island resembles the head of an elephant with the trunk extended. [see the images at: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Elephant_Island_(South_Shetland_Islands).]

 

The big question of the day was whether we would be able to visit Elephant Island, a small speck of land surrounded by churning surf that often causes plans to be changed. The answer was — yes. In fact, not only were we able to do a zodiac cruise at Point Wild, we were able to land at Cape Lookout. From all I read before the trip, and what I subsequently heard from the expedition staff, it was an exceptionally lucky day for us. A very nice bonus.

 

Point Wild: After months of living on ice floes, this narrow, inhospitable spit of land served as home to 22 of Shackleton’s men while he and five others went in search of rescue. That the men survived the four months until they were rescued has always seemed like a miracle to me; even more so now that I have seen Point Wild for myself. Worsley, Shackleton's captain, wrote in his book, Shackleton's Boat Journey, that the men pronounced the island with a silent 't' and an 'h' prefixed, making Elephant Island sound more like “Hell-of-an-Island.” From their point of view, it probably was just that!

 

We cruised as close to shore as we could to see as much as we could; the surf was too rough to make an actual landing. Sasha, our zodiac driver, kept a wary eye on the reefs nearby, taking us close to the narrow beach where Shackleton’s men lived under two small, overturned boats — lifeboats, really. There’s nothing left of those boats now. In their place stands a statue honoring Luis Pardo, the captain of the Yelcho — the Chilean ship that eventually rescued the men. Point Wild was overrun by chinnies who seem to be flourishing despite the hardships of life on the island.

 

Sasha then wanted to take us out to a tabular berg on the far side of Point Wild. Most of the people in our zodiac, however, wanted to cruise near the face of the tidewater glacier in the bay. We should have listened to Sasha! We slowly grinded our way through the brash ice, making noises like a blender full of ice cubes. By the time we arrived at the glacier, the fog had thickened. Never mind seeing the face of the glacier, we could barely make out the people sitting at the opposite end of the zodiac. When we were back in ice-free water, we asked Sasha what would have happened if the motor had broken down. “I only have you and a bunch of oars,” was his reply. He was joking, of course. Although it was sometimes impossible to see the all-white Molchanov hidden in the thick fog, we were never out of communications range. [by the way, there were no oars in the zodiac!]

 

After a brief visit to a nearby Cape petrel rookery, we gave up. The fog was winning the sightseeing battle. We returned to the ship and were soon on our way to the unplanned second landing at Elephant Island.

 

Cape Lookout: Shackleton and his men may not have considered Cape Lookout as a suitable spot for themselves, but our intrepid group was quite happy with our landing site. Arriving at a very narrow strip of sand beach, we were greeted by a few penguins and some elephant and fur seals. With an agility that would have put an acrobat to shame, we clambered over the boulder-strewn beach to reach the penguin colony a short distance away. Nesting skuas had us detouring along the way, but we all made it safely and no one was dive-bombed by the birds.

 

The penguin colony started at the edge of the water and went all the way up a steep, rocky hillside. The swath of guano-pink land running up the hill made it easy to see how far up the colony reached. Opting to stay close to the gentoos and chinnies in the lower reaches of the colony, I found a boulder and sat down to enjoy my time with the penguins. There was a lot of activity as adults went to and from the beach and chicks chased newly-arrived parents for a drop of regurgitated krill. Giant bergs passing just off the coast of the island added a sense of freshness to the landscape and I often found my attention wandering from the activity onshore to the activity offshore as the scenery kept changing from one moment to another.

 

NEXT: THE TRIP - Another Day in the South Shetlands

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A note: it would seem that some of the URLs in my earlier posts were messed up when I copied them into CruiseCritic. You can copy and paste them (without the ending period or parentheses) if you're interested in checking them out.

 

January 13 — yet another day in the South Shetlands

 

We had a relatively late wake-up call at 7:30a, but I was up long before then, enjoying a delightful Antarctic morning. I was entranced by the glacier- and snow-covered specks of land around us. It was the unmistakable smell of “guano in the morning” that alerted me to the presence of penguins. It was just a whiff, and the smell passed quickly, but now I turned my attention to searching the landmasses around me for penguins. Sure enough; there they were — tiny black and white dots against a pinkish background.

 

Aitcho Islands: Our first landing of the day was at Aitcho Islands. It might sound like a foreign word, but in fact, Aitcho is English — sort of! It stands for the initials of the [british] Hydrographic Office. Say it: H — O.

 

Chinnies greeted us on shore, but they did not stay to visit with us. Their pristine white feathers told us the story — they had just returned from feeding and were anxious to get to their nests to relieve their partners and feed their chicks. Some of the birds nesting on the high ground adorned the rim of a cliff like a necklace of black and white pearls. As we walked up closer to the penguins, we could make out chicks in their downy coats and adults caring for them.

 

Although it was a mixed colony of chinnies and gentoo penguins, each species seemed to be keeping company with its own kind. It was quieter in the gentoo neighborhoods, whereas ecstatic displays filled the air around the chinnie nests. There was a great deal of chick feeding going on, although I did not see any chicks chasing after parents, begging for food. It was funny to see the gentoo chicks, which were about half the size of the adults, trying to nestle under a parent for warmth and protection from the wind. They were so adorable; it was hard not to reach out and run our hands through their downy coats.

 

Deception Island: Back on the ship, we stayed on deck to enjoy the scenery of the Bransfield Strait. The blue skies continued for our onward journey to Deception Island, but there was considerably more wind. This was one of the few times when walking on deck was a real challenge, because the wind gusts were so strong. Most of the passengers were on the bridge as we approached Deception Island, and a few brave souls were on the flybridge. Tucked into a niche on Deck 3, I enjoyed the ship’s passage through Neptune’s Bellow into the sunken caldera of the volcano from a lower vantage point. It was amazing how quickly the howling wind dissipated once we rounded the entrance.

 

The ship anchored in the calm waters of Whaler’s Bay and we made an easy landing onto a black-sand beach near the remains of a whaling station. I was grateful that for once there was little wildlife around; they would have distracted us from everything else this landing had to offer.

 

At a leisurely pace, Hubby and I left the whaling station behind and trod across the black-sand beach, sometimes letting the gentle surf wash up over our boots. A lone chinnie was standing guard near the ramshackle remains of an old hut. As though greeting us, he bowed in our direction before hastening into the surf for an afternoon dip.

 

The landscape was dotted with old whaling boats and buildings half submerged in the ashes of a volcanic eruption, the last of which was in 1970. It was a reminder that we were inside an active volcano. On the cliffs, the green shoots of newly developing vegetation proved that the land was healing itself. Every so often, we came across whale bones; a sad reminder of a not-so-great chapter in human history.

 

Although the distance was not great — probably a mile or so — it took us a while to get to the trail leading up to Neptune’s Window; we were distracted by everything that caught our eye along the way. This worked to our advantage; by the time we got there, most people were already coming down. The walk up the scree slope to the Window was not particularly difficult or treacherous, but required careful attention to where we put our feet. The short hike up was definitely worth it. Through the Window, we had an excellent view of the scenery behind the island and a close view of a Cape petrel rookery. The sky was dotted with what I believe is one of the most beautiful birds in the Antarctic, and we enjoyed sitting on boulders and watching the comings and goings of the birds. When we turned around to look in the opposite direction, all of Whaler’s Bay was laid out to our gaze with the whaling station in the distance.

 

Eventually, we walked back down and followed the surfline back to the whaling station, stopping en route to spend time with two polar skuas that were sitting on the beach just out of reach of the surf. Unlike other encounters with the species, these birds did not fly off when we approached and it was a nice opportunity to see the scavengers of the Antarctic up close and personal.

 

Meanwhile, near the zodiac landing site, there was a flurry of activity. Brave Molchanovites were in different stages of undress; a couple of crewmen were digging a pit at the water’s edge. Since Deception Island is an active volcano, there is geo-thermally heated water trickling up to the surface. We had dipped our hands in the water inside a pit earlier to test the temperature against the temperature of the ocean and found it to be downright “toasty.” However, that’s where Hubby and I drew the line. I know; it wasn’t very adventuresome of us, but so be it! I don’t know if I can say that those who braved the cold waters of Whaler’s Bay enjoyed the experience, but they certainly appreciated their brief respite in the hot-water pit afterwards.

 

Since we dawdled so long on our walk to and from Neptune’s Window, we had to forego an in-depth exploration of the whaling station. I did manage to wander around the tanks that were used in the heyday of whaling to store oil rendered from whale blubber. Thankfully, these rusted, hole-filled reminders of those days are now filled with just the echoing sounds of wildlife and the occasional conversations of visitors.

 

On this night we went to sleep in sight of the Antarctic Continent.

 

NEXT: THE TRIP - Mother Nature's Amazing Wonders

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January 14 — mother nature’s amazing wonders

 

We had a very full day; not to mention, a very rewarding one. We were up bright and early for the ship’s transit through Gerlache Strait on our way to Errera Channel and the wonders beyond. The blue skies gave way to clouds for a very brief time, but they didn’t last long enough to dampen our enthusiasm. Before we knew it, we were sailing under blue skies again, with whales blowing near the ship, crabeater seals snoozing on the ice floes, and penguins surprising us as they rafted by on icebergs.

 

Petzval Glacier: Once through Errera Channel, we anchored in Paradise Bay. Our first activity was a zodiac cruise to Petzval Glacier. “Who wants to be the first to touch Antarctica?” asked Mariano as he nosed the zodiac up against a bare rock sticking out of the water. Once everyone had a chance to stroke the rock for good luck, we continued a leisurely cruise under blue skies. The water could not have been calmer — or so I thought at the time. Making our way around “smallish” bergs in the bay, we closed in on the face of the glacier to view the different shades of blue running throughout the ice. The terminus was heavily crevassed and we could see deep into the ice where the bluest of blue colors were visible to the naked eye.

 

Stepping on the Continent: On the way to our much-anticipated continental landing, we stopped in front of a rookery where Antarctic blue-eyed shags were nesting in the cracks and crevices of a cliff. Many of the birds were just sitting on the nests and probably had chicks hidden beneath them. In several of the nests, however, parents were feeding chicks and we enjoyed the spectacle for a while.

 

Eventually, Mariano revved up the motor and we continued around a spit of land to the Almirante Brown Research Station, the site of our “continental landing.” With the bow of the zodiac nosed-up onto some high boulders, we made a dry landing as the waters of Paradise Bay splashed against the low-lying rocks. We followed a sign that pointed us to the “tourist way” and made our way behind the buildings of the Argentinean research station.

 

I have to admit to some disappointment about this landing, although we did not let that dampen our enthusiasm for the occasion. In my mind’s eye, I had seen us making our continental landing in a very pristine environment. That wasn’t the case — and I am not talking about the guano from the small colony of gentoo penguins that tinted the snow pink.

 

When we rounded the corner of the building, we were greeted by the sight of a multitude of crates, metal drums, etc., lying on the snow in complete disarray. A few of the crates had their lids off, as though someone had cracked them open to check the contents. We later learned that the station personnel had only just arrived and the equipment had been air-dropped the day before — that at least explained all the nets that I was concerned the gentoos could be trapped by. The expedition staff also explained that the station had experienced a fire, which resulted in the loss of the storage building — apparently the doctor did not want to overwinter in Antarctica and set the place on fire. If it’s the same fire I read about, that was back in 1984 and the ruins of the building should have been removed or replaced by now.

 

The majority of the group climbed a nearby high point and was soon sliding down the snow-covered hill. While they were enjoying their activity, several others stayed with the penguin colony near the buildings. Hubby and I trekked over in a different direction where we were able to enjoy a bit of solitude. The bay that we came to was home to icebergs, pristine snow, and a blue-white tidewater glacier. This was the pristine Antarctica we were looking for. While we were enjoying the view to our right, a loud gunshot crack from the left alerted us to a big calving from the glacier. Hubby was able to capture the action on film — or so we thought. Although the camera was seemingly recording; it wasn’t. Oh well, we have a nice memory imprinted in our minds. The amazing thing about the calving was the speed at which the resulting waves moved across the bay, taking along pieces of ice of all shapes and sizes. In less than a minute after the calving, some of that ice was washing ashore near the huts that were just below us.

 

We were enjoying the company of the small colony of gentoos when the call came to board the zodiacs for the journey to our southernmost point. We thought we’d had an amazing day already. More was to come!

 

Lemaire Channel: Soon after lunch, we found ourselves at the entrance to Lemaire Channel — appropriately nicknamed “Kodak Gap”, “Fuji Funnel”, and “Agfa Alley.” I’m sure someone will come up with a suitable tribute to modern day photography at some point; until then, how about “Digital Ditch.”

 

We enjoyed the ship’s cruise from the bow, rather than the flybridge. It was the right place to be as from this low-on-the-ship location, the grandeur of the scenery was multiplied several fold. Passing floes on which crabeater seals were resting, we slowly cruised the channel in the company of minke whales blowing not too far from the ship. I have to admit this was one time where the scenery had me so in awe that I did not even try to look for the whales.

 

We had company as we slowly sailed closer to the mouth of the channel — the Whale Song, a small vessel, was just in front of us. With little effort on the part of the Molchanov, we left the yacht in our wake. When the water became clogged with brash ice, the Whale Song had to turn back. Not so our trusty ship; we slowly plowed through the brash ice. For the first time on our trip, we heard the sounds of ice gently banging up against the ice-reinforced hull as we nudged away the bergy bits and growlers that were blocking our way. With an incredible blue sky above, snow- and glacier-covered peaks on both sides, and blue-white ice of all sizes around us, it was a stunning passage through the channel.

 

Petermann Island: Our spectacular afternoon continued with an extended landing on Petermann Island. [it was rumored that our sister ship had given up her time on the island as she was involved in a rescue.] Part of this island is used to research human impact on penguins [thankfully, there doesn’t seem to be any], so some of the colonies were off limits to us.

 

Following Nigel, we trekked to a colony located against a beautiful backdrop that included the channel and the glaciers on the opposite side. The colony was a mix of Adélie and gentoo penguins. Chicks were everywhere, huddled against parents. Penguins were coming and going as they returned from feeding to take over nest duties. A pair of Adélies was attempting to mate — I think they were young adults that weren’t quite sure what to do! There was quite a bit of “stone thievery” going on as penguins selected stones from neighboring nests and used them to enhance their own. Seeing a few of the chicks stealing stones, we laughed and commented that the adults were not being good role models. [Actually, they were being good role models; nest-building is an essential activity.] We spent a considerable amount of time just sitting on the boulders near the penguins, enjoying them, the scenery, and our continued good luck with the weather.

 

Eventually, we moved away from the colony and hiked up to a different part of the island to reach our southernmost point — 65˚10.7’S. The snow was slushy, crisscrossed with melt streams and streaked with green algae. Walking with us at times were gentoo penguins traveling back from the sea to some unseen colony. They seemed to be having an easier time on the snow than we were. The sights awaiting us at the end of our walk, however, made the trek well-worth the effort.

 

As we crested the top of the hill and approached the rim, our breath was taken away by the sight of many giant icebergs filling a small bay below us. At first we thought they might be grounded, but they were bobbing on the water, so that wasn’t the case. Robert, who was passing by, explained that it was more of a “berg jam.” Driven into the bay by the currents, they will remain imprisoned until one of the bergs blocking the entrance moves out of the way.

 

It really was hard to leave this spot, but the time was fast approaching for the last zodiac departure, and we did not want to find out the hard way whether the ship would actually weigh anchor and leave us stranded. So, we trudged back through the slushy snow, stopping often to enjoy the comings and goings of gentoo penguins along the way. Closer to shore, we found a pond full of polar skuas taking a late afternoon bath. From all the wing-flapping and squawking going on, it was obvious that they were into this activity. Dragging out our time on Petermann Island to the last possible second, we boarded the final zodiac back to the ship.

 

Pleneau Bay: If we thought Lemaire Channel and Petermann Island could not be topped, we were dead wrong. During dinner, Jonas announced that we had one more activity before the ship started its return journey north — a zodiac cruise of Pleneau Bay and its countless icebergs.

 

Shortly after dinner, we donned our gear and boarded the zodiacs. It was 9:30p by our watches [we stayed on Ushuaia time for the duration of the voyage]. The sun was still high on the horizon; we later saw for ourselves that it would not be setting until well after midnight, and then, only briefly. The patchy clouds filtered the rays of the sun and created a magical light. The water was so flat that it acted like a mirror, adding another dimension to the awesome ice creations of Mother Nature.

 

The zodiacs spread out so that we neither heard nor saw the other boats, except on a few occasions when we welcomed their presence as they added perspective to the giant creations of ice all around us. Jonas frequently turned the motor off, allowing us to drift in complete silence and immerse ourselves in the peace and quiet around us.

 

We traveled in and around icebergs of all colors, shapes, and sizes. It was amazing to see the underwater shelves of the icebergs changing the color of the water from dark navy to a Caribbean teal. The water was incredibly clear and we could see the swarming krill just beneath the surface. In fact, the krill were in such numbers that they were sometimes jumping on the surface — it reminded us of a still pond on which you might see mosquitoes flitting about.

 

We explored the meandering channels between nature’s giant ice sculptures, coming close enough to touch them; but we abstained. No one wanted to leave behind a trace of our visit. Gentoo penguins porpoising in the water kept us company, as did some crabeater seals that were relaxing on a large berg. One of them slipped down the ice and disappeared into the water at the sound of our arrival, but the others remained on the berg, curiously checking us out. We also saw quite a few seals in the water, an environment that instantly transforms them from lumbering animals to graceful creatures.

 

Not far from the berg, we came upon our one and only encounter with one of the two main predators of the Antarctic — the leopard seal. [The killer whale — Orca — is the other predator in these waters; no sightings on this trip.] I was surprised at how unskittish the seal was as the zodiac nosed right up to the ice floe. I was sitting on the floor of the zodiac at the bow and was at eye level with the seal when it opened its jaws wide in a big yawn. It was a bit unnerving to be so close as to be able to see down its throat, but it was an amazing experience as well. Of all the seals, I think the leopard seal, with its Machiavellian grin perpetually in place, has become my favorite — after the adorable fur seal pups, of course.

 

The wildlife highlight of the evening happened towards the end of the cruise. We had just returned to the gangway and were tying up the zodiac when the call came from the ship that there were minke and humpback whales in the bay. Jonas threw off the bow line, rushed back to the motor, and off we went on an exhilarating ride with everyone holding on tight. We maneuvered in and around the bergs to get close to the whales as they fed in the bay. Turning a corner around an iceberg, we found our way blocked by two low-to-the-water bergs that were almost kissing. Undaunted, Jonas yelled, “duck,” and so we did. Barely slowing down, he passed between the bergs. In the next breath, we were in the clear, once again looking for signs of the whales.

 

This was our closest encounter with the giants of the oceans. Sighting many blows, fins, semi submerged bodies, and flukes in close proximity was such a thrill that I simply forgot to put the camera up to my eye for much of the time. Nonetheless, I have a couple of good pictures, and even managed to capture the fluke of one whale, which signaled a deep dive. With that last image still vivid in our minds, we returned to the ship and tied up just as the motor sputtered to a stop — we were out of gas!

 

Sunset: With the adrenaline still rushing through our blood, we weren’t ready to call it a night. It was after 11:00p and dusk was finally falling — albeit, slowly. Grabbing some hot chocolate from the dining room, we joined fellow passengers in a rehash of our exciting outing. As we chatted, the ship weighed anchor and started to make its way back through Lemaire Channel.

 

Deciding to stay up until the sun bid us adieu, we went up to the bridge to while away the time. It was quiet on the bridge; three officers and the captain were on duty, navigating around nearby icebergs and the brash ice that was choking the channel. Hearing the ice gently banging against the ship as we slowly moved through the water was quite eerie in the deepening dusk. That sense of eeriness increased as the sky ahead and the clouds above turned blood red — the sun was slowly setting.

 

A stunning end to a spectacular day.

 

NEXT: THE TRIP - Birthday in Antarctica

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January 15 — birthday in Antarctica

 

Happy Birthday, Hubby! Yes, Hubby got to celebrate the end of half-a-century on earth in Antarctica. Lucky guy!

 

Port Lockroy: We woke up to shale-grey clouds, but by the time Jonas made the wake-up call at 6:30a, the skies had lightened up. We were anchored in a bay surrounded by glaciers flowing down to the water’s edge. In the middle of the bay stood our landing site for the morning — Goudier Island, home to British Base A, Port Lockroy.

 

The clouds started moving back in even as we boarded the zodiacs and traveled the short distance to Port Lockroy. The wind picked up as well, and by the time our zodiac had nosed up onto the boulders for a semi-dry landing, it was snowing lightly.

 

First things first, we headed inside the museum/gift shop. Richer by a pair of whale earrings and matching tail fluke pendant, and a couple of t-shirts, we finished our shopping and turned our attention to the other things Port Lockroy offered. While Hubby made a quick tour of the museum inside the building, I found a boulder to perch on amongst the gentoos that breed on the island. It was snowing hard, and the wind was blowing, but that just added to the experience rather than detracting from it. For the first time since arriving at the peninsula, we were seeing the continent’s more common weather-face.

 

When Hubby joined me, we shifted to an area that offered slightly more protection from the strengthening wind. It was hard to stand up against the gusts, so we found a couple of boulders from which to watch the gentoos coming and going as they traveled from the sea to their nests where hungry chicks were waiting to be fed. We had been warned that these birds would be passing very close to us and to respect their right-of-way. Staying seated ensured that we did not stress them out unnecessarily and allowed us to take steadier pictures in the gusting wind.

 

Most of the chicks were hunched under their parents, trying to get what protection they could from the wind and snow. Seeing them with their heads hidden and their butts sticking out in the air, I couldn’t help but draw a comparison to ostriches hiding their heads in the sand.

 

All too soon, the call came to board the zodiacs. Our time was cut a little short because of the ever-strengthening wind. The ride back to the ship was one of the more “interesting” ones thanks to the swells we encountered on the way. In fact, we had to find a relatively sheltered area for a few minutes while the ship weighed anchor and repositioned to give us a better lee from which to disembark the zodiacs. It was a bit disturbing to watch the ship moving away from us while we bobbed away in the zodiac, but knowing why she was moving certainly allayed any real anxiety.

 

Heading North: Once everyone was back on board, the ship continued its northerly heading. We knew we were traveling through Neumayer Channel, another scenic passage, but the snow and fog was such that we could barely make out the walls of the channel, forget about seeing any distinguishing features.

 

We skipped the landing at Orne Island due to the lack of visibility. I don’t think anyone really minded; certainly Hubby and I did not. Perhaps we were “zodiac’d” out, but I think it was just that the adrenaline that had kept us going through the long days of our voyage was starting to ebb now that we knew we were leaving Antarctica and approaching the end of our adventure.

 

The weather abated slightly as we approached Dallman Bay. With the visibility increased, we were able to see lots of humpback whales as they passed us on their way south. They seemed to be all around us, and we could see blows, fins, and flukes. In a few instances, they surfaced next to the ship. Unfortunately, this seemed to always happen during an inopportune moment, like when I was going up or down the stairs on the outside decks. I deemed it more prudent to just watch the whales and record the visual memories in my brain than to let go of the handrail and risk joining the giants of the oceans in the freezing Antarctic waters. The more distant pictures I did manage to take turned out to be of poor quality — not just because of the poor light and the motion of the ship, but also because the camera tended to focus on the big, fat snowflakes that were falling pretty hard at that point.

 

By the time we reached the Melchior Archipelago, the winds and swells had died down to a manageable level. When the call came to don our gear for a zodiac cruise, we did so with relish, knowing this was going to be our last activity. It wasn’t to be. By the time the first zodiac was brought around to the gangway, the wind had picked up dramatically. We switched to the portside gangway and a few people managed to get into the zodiac. But then things got worse again. Stuck halfway down the swaying gangway, I wasn’t afraid, but the queasiness I was starting to feel from the motion was worrisome [i stopped using the patch once we reached continental waters]. Just as I was about to pass on this outing, Jonas pulled the plug. It was the right decision.

 

Most people would probably consider our last day to be a very disappointing one. I guess it was; in a way. But having had such fantastic luck with the weather throughout our voyage, it was honestly an interesting experience to see Antarctica showing us her “real face.” I have to say that I am glad the bad weather hit us on our last day in the Peninsula region. Having already experienced the sights and sounds of our landings up to that point, it would have been really disappointing had we missed one or more of those opportunities instead.

 

So, as the Molchanov sailed north into heavier seas, we steeled ourselves against the voyage across the Drake Passage. It didn’t take long for the infamous waterway to make its presence known, and within minutes the Molchanov became a virtual ghost ship. By the time dinner was served, however, most people were up and about; at least long enough to eat a few bites and wish Hubby a happy birthday when Marco brought out a cake decorated with sparklers. Robert and Mariano, who joined us for dinner, rated the crossing as a 4 on a scale of 10. With no basis for comparison, we felt it was more like an 8. Little did we know that things were about to get worse.

 

NEXT: THE TRIP - Mild Drake Shake

[2552phxcrzr]

January 16 — mild (?!) Drake shake

 

Overnight, our crossing of the Drake went from bad to worse. By midnight the waves were much stronger. Trying to sleep was an impossible task; we were too busy bracing ourselves against slipping around too much in our bunks. Despite our efforts, we often found ourselves traveling towards the opposite end of our “private cradles;” at least we did not get thrown out of bed! At times, we could feel the ship rise on a swell and just hang in mid-air. After what seemed like an interminable amount of time, she would start coming back down again, often at an angle that seemed impossible to sustain. I guess at some point we must have dozed off, but we didn’t feel quite “well-rested” when we woke up to greet another day of rock and roll on the high seas.

 

Visiting the bridge before breakfast was a challenge; we made slow progress down the hallway and up the stairs, timing every step to the ship’s rolling motion. The officer on duty informed us that at the storm’s worst we had experienced waves in the neighborhood of 30 ft [10 m]. “Ahh, but that is nothing; there were no waves breaking over the bow,” he informed us in the next breath. When I asked Mariano at breakfast what he thought of the overnight crossing, he was quick to upgrade his estimation from a 4 to a 7.5 on a scale of 10. In the next breath, however, he too said the waves weren’t breaking over the bow. In the long run, I suppose the Drake Passage was relatively kind to us. Perhaps on a larger vessel, we would have considered the conditions to be a little stronger than the “Drake Lake” everyone hopes for, but few get to experience. On our small vessel, I think we had a medium-to-high “Drake Shake” to add to our memories of the trip.

 

Despite the rock and roll motion, the day progressed with relatively well-attended lectures with topics ranging from penguins to the South Circumpolar Current. The opening of the Molchanov Shop brought everyone out, but many of the passengers retired to their cabins as soon as the shop closed. In between lectures, I spent my time tucked into a corner in the bar, deleting obviously bad pictures and duplicates from the 10,000+ that I had taken on the trip. I came away with a sore left arm — from getting squished against the door as the movement of the ship shifted me first in one direction and than in the other — but it was worth it. By the time I was done, I had a mere “5,000+” pictures remaining for the subsequent sorts I have been working on since we returned home.

 

NEXT: THE TRIP - Rock & Roll is Here to Stay

[2552phxcrzr]

January 17 — rock & roll is here to stay

 

Plans don’t always work out as intended. Jonas had announced that we would be in the calm waters of the Beagle Channel relatively early in the day. With bated breath, we all waited for that moment when things would calm down. It’s a good thing we did not hold our breath for long; our vigil was to no avail. Although the rolling of the ship abated somewhat, we rocked throughout the day. Conditions on the outside decks were such that the watertight doors were locked down to prevent passengers from wandering outside. As poor visibility continued for most of the day, we didn’t get to see the famed Cape Horn.

 

So, we entertained ourselves inside, resigned to more rocking and rolling when Jonas announced that a freak storm in the Beagle Channel meant we would continue to feel the motion for even longer than first predicted. As well, plans for docking early and enjoying a good night’s rest in port were out the window. In Jonas’s words, the Beagle Channel transit was a “10 on a scale of 10; we’ve never seen it like this before.”

 

The day’s lectures were more personal in nature. First, Nigel spoke of living and working in Antarctica; mostly at bases operated by the British Antarctic survey. Fascinating! Then, at the end of his lecture about the natives of Tierra del Fuego, Mariano shared with us pictures that his father had taken when he was working in Grytviken. Fascinating!

 

In the early evening, we attended our last briefing, which included a disembarkation Q&A and a slide show that Hanne had compiled from the photos she had taken of us throughout the voyage. We’re supposed to be getting a disk from Quark in the next few months that will include a voyage log as well as Hanne’s photos and videos. We’re anxious to get the disk to compare our memories of the trip with the official log. However, knowing how long it takes to do post-processing on digital media, we’re going to give Quark some time before we start bugging them.

 

Dinner was preceded by a farewell cocktail; Captain Baturkin made an appearance and toasted the voyage before disappearing again like the proverbial ghost. After dinner, many people returned to their cabins to pack. Hubby had already completed that chore for us, so we were able to sit back, relax, and reminisce about the voyage until it was time to call it a night.

 

My last thought, before I dozed off: “When are we going to get into smooth waters?”

 

NEXT: THE TRIP - The Voyage Ends

[2552phxcrzr]

January 18 — the voyage ends

 

When I woke up at 5:00a to the ship’s movement, my first thought was, “Are we going to make our flight?” Granted, we were no longer rocking, but I had anticipated that the ship would be docked by the time we were up and about. Obviously, the conditions in the Beagle Channel had delayed us even more than anticipated.

 

I rushed through getting dressed, anxious to find out just how far out we were. On deck, catching a glimpse of Ushuaia in the distance, I drew a breath of relief. Seeing that we were just past El Faro, the lighthouse we had sailed out to on our Beagle Channel cruise, I figured we had about two hours before we would be docking. That would put things back on track with the initial schedule for a 7:00a disembarkation. I didn’t linger long; it was far colder in the Beagle Channel than it had been when we left Ushuaia behind 20 days before; and there was a lot more snow on the mountain tops as well.

 

Ever on cue, the PA came alive at 6:30a with Jonas greeting everyone with his typical, “Good morning, good morning one and all.” He then proceeded to give us our position: 54°49’S by 68°13’W — two nautical miles from our anchorage; the temperature: 4C/40F; and the wildlife sighted, which included the birds I had seen as well as blue eyed shags, Magellanic penguins, and South American sea lions.

 

Putting our luggage outside the cabin door, we briefly stepped out on deck for one last peek at the scenery before heading down for breakfast. Marco, being his usual surly self, kept us all waiting until exactly 7:00a before he opened the doors to the dining room. Even as we began eating, the unmistakable sounds of activity dockside heralded that we were tying up to land.

 

By 7:30a, we were finished with breakfast, the ship was cleared, and we had our passports in hand. Bidding the expedition staff farewell, we walked down the gangway, bringing our ocean voyage to an end. Identifying our luggage, we watched it go into the belly of the airport transfer bus. Taking a few final pictures of our home-away-from-home, we bid adieu to our co-adventurers who were either staying over in Ushuaia or taking later flights, and boarded the bus.

 

Ushuaia to Buenos Aires (BsAs): The expedition staff did an amazing job of disembarking everyone and getting them onto the appropriate transport. At 07:45a, 15 minutes ahead of schedule, the driver closed the bus door and we were off to the airport. There was surprisingly little traffic for a weekday morning and before we knew it, we were getting off at the terminal.

 

Inside the terminal there was not a soul to be seen. We queued up at the counter, first in line to check in for the flight. Fifteen minutes later, the Aerolineas Argentinas agent showed up. Our check-in was painless — they must have been going by the “two-pieces per passenger” rule, as we did not have to pay any overage charges. We later found out that Dr Dan and Henna were not so lucky.

 

Next stop was the cashier’s cage to pay our departure tax. Five minutes later we were 26 pesos poorer — about $8 USD. The security entrance to the gates was not yet open. Joining a few of our shipmates, we made ourselves comfortable at the café. Noticing our flight listed on the monitor, I went to verify our departure. Already there was an hour’s delay posted. “Looks like we’re not leaving until 10:50a,” I reported. A few minutes later, another fellow passenger on the flight reported: “Looks like we’re here until 10:30a.” Like a bouncing ball, the monitor fluctuated our departure between these two times until boarding was called.

 

At 9:30a, we went through security and found seats near our assigned gate. At about 10:00a, we saw a plane land. “Must be ours,” I said. No sooner were the words out of my mouth that people started queuing up. “You’d think we didn’t have seat assignments,” I commented. Already picking up her bag and moving towards the line, one of our shipmates said: “That’s not far from the truth; in many cases, the flights are overbooked and if someone else is already in your seat and has a valid boarding pass, you get bumped off.” So we joined the line as well, standing around for the next 20 minutes or so. By then Dr Dan and Henna had also joined our little group. With our recent adventure in common, we whiled away the time with shared memories.

 

Our flight to BsAs, with a brief stop in Rio Gallegos, went smoothly. Much to our relief all four bags were on the carousel when we arrived at baggage claim. By 3:30p, we were outside the arrivals area where Ana’s smiling face briefly made us forget the humid 86F [32C] heat that blasted us outside the terminal.

 

Getting the Lay of the Land: We made a quick stop at the Art Hotel to drop off our luggage before proceeding with our city tour. Although our room was small — cozy, I think, is the word used to describe it in the brochure — it was nicely furnished. The room was sparkling clean; had ample hot water; was quiet; and best of all, did not roll or pitch under our feet! Centrally located in the Recoleta neighborhood, this boutique hotel served us well for our one-night stay; I’d highly recommend it even for a longer stay. (http://www.arthotel.com.ar)

 

Our arrangements with Ana Luna for a city tour worked out perfectly, especially for the La Boca portion. This neighborhood has recently come into its own again and it is now safe for tourists during the day time. “I wouldn’t go there after dark,” was Ana’s comment. We really enjoyed our brief time amongst the quaint, colorful buildings and the narrow, cobblestone streets.

 

The rest of the tour was more or less in the car, with one stop where Hubby and I got out to take a few pictures. We didn’t mind the lack of walking this time as our intent was to get an overview of the neighborhoods. Thanks to this tour, Hubby was able to plan an excellent walking tour the next day to make the most of our brief time in BsAs.

 

Some would find it sacrilegious that we did so, but we cancelled our plans for seeing a tango show that night. We were just too tired to do justice to anything other than a soft bed. Instead, we walked to a small sidewalk café on Avenida Santa Fe, about two blocks from the hotel, and grabbed a light dinner. By 10:00p, we were fast asleep.

 

NEXT: BUENOS AIRES & RETURN TO THE US

[2552phxcrzr]

January 19 — Buenos Aires & return to the US

 

Although we could have slept in and taken it easy, we wanted to make the most of our one day in the city billed as the “Paris of the South.” We were up at 6:30a, and enjoying a very nice continental breakfast [included in the room rate] by 7:30a. Shortly thereafter, storing our bags with the front desk personnel, we checked out of our room and started walking. The weather was pleasant, with low humidity and a nice breeze; a welcome change from the previous day’s humid heat.

 

Exploring BsAs on Foot: I don’t think there is any part of the city that we missed; at least it felt that way by the time we were seated on the airplane late that night. We started out by visiting Recoleta Cemetery, where Eva Peron is buried. [We did not do the guided tour, but did pay a few pesos to have someone take us directly to Evita’s crypt; the meandering paths are too complicated to navigate when you have a limited amount of time.] This cemetery has got to be seen to be believed! Some of the family vaults are more like mansions than crypts, elaborately decorated with statues and bas relief carvings. It was easy to tell which plots are owned by families who no longer have anyone to pay for the upkeep; they were in a state of disrepair that stood in stark contrast to the rest of the crypts.

 

From the cemetery, we walked through the neighboring residential areas until we arrived at the pedestrian-only Avenida Florida. The street, lined with shops on both sides, was crowded with tourists and locals alike. About midway down the street, we sat at one of the outdoor cafés where I enjoyed an ice cold Coca Cola. Hubby decided to have a hot chocolate. He was brought a glass of hot milk and a bar of chocolate, which he stirred into the milk until the bar was completely melted. It wasn’t as creamy and delicious as the hot chocolate we enjoyed in Ushuaia, but it was a close second.

 

We continued onto Puerto Madero, the old port area that is being modernized. The new, modern pedestrian bridge — Puente de la Mujer [bridge of the Woman] — stood in stark contrast to an old sailing vessel, the President Sarmiante Frigate, which operated as a school ship from 1899 to 1961 when it was converted to a museum. On either side of the canal, old warehouses have been renovated as apartments, with shops and restaurants on the ground floor. On one side, high rise buildings are going up; more apartments. Cranes — no longer operational — stand guard along the canal walls, a reminder of the original purpose of the area. Some of these cranes were in the process of being painted in bright colors; a version of art deco statuary. We saw white egrets in the trees and black diving birds in the water. Occasionally, a canoeist rowed by, lazily gliding down the canal.

 

Although the temperature was much higher by mid-day, a gentle breeze kept things from becoming uncomfortable. Enjoying our walk along the canal, we extended our time in Puerto Madero by dining at Donata, one of the many restaurants featuring an outside terrace. We had an excellent Italian lunch, topped off with a chocolate ice cream cake drizzled with strawberry sauce.

 

We felt no guilt after our high-calorie meal, because we continued to walk the streets of the city from one end to the other. Sometimes we found ourselves in areas obviously not frequented by tourists — we were the only ones with cameras around our necks. Undaunted, we pressed on, finally arriving at Avenida 9 Julio, the world’s widest avenue — eight lanes of traffic in each direction. Taking a peek at Teatro Colón [now under renovation] and the Obelisco, which we found to be very similar to our own Washington Monument in DC, we finally arrived on a familiar street — Avenida Santa Fe. Feeling in need of refreshment, we first bought ourselves a couple of ice cream cones from Volta, and later, further down the street, we sat down to enjoy cold drinks at a sidewalk café. When we finally set off again, it was in the direction of our hotel, just a few short blocks away.

 

Winging Our Way to the US: Ana was prompt as usual and picked us up at 6:00p to take us to Ezeiza, the International Airport. The drive, in the early evening traffic, took us about an hour. No problem; expecting the long ride, we had asked her to pick us up four hours before our scheduled departure.

 

At the airport, the check-in queue was long, but moved steadily. An airline official was walking the line and handing out e-ticket vouchers to speed up the check-in process. When our turn came, we were able to snag two Economy Plus seats, one in an exit row; well worth the extra cost for the long flight home. After paying our departure taxes — $18/person, if I recall correctly — we proceeded to immigration. Security here was a joke. In fact, the lackadaisical attitude was scary enough for Hubby to consider registering a complaint with TSA [Transportation Security Administration] upon our return to the US. As it turns out, we did not have to do that — read on.

 

Our gate was at the farthest point of the international terminal. Thanks to a cautionary word from the agent who checked us in for our flight, we proceeded directly there with just one small delay — Hubby wanted to buy a few things at the duty free shop to spend the last of our Argentinean pesos. [i know; he can always find an excuse to shop!] It took us at least 20 minutes to reach our destination. At the gate, we went through a secondary security check, negating the need to register a complaint with TSA. They checked each carry-on bag and did a “wand” search of each individual. Finally, if you had any drinks with you, you had to consume them at the table where the security personnel were stationed, or you had to turn them in; you didn’t even have the option of finishing your drink in the lounge area, in clear sight and within steps of the security table. There was quite a bit of grumbling about this, but everyone complied. Our two empty bottles passed the screening, and we filled them once we were on the plane.

 

Boarding was on time and proceeded without incident. Hubby asked the young lady who was seated in the exit row with him if she would mind switching seats with me. Much to my surprise, she agreed — I really had not expected anyone to give up an exit row seat. Dinner was a little better than the food that was served on the flight down to BsAs, but not by much. When the lights were dimmed, Hubby settled down to snooze for the duration of the flight. Much to my surprise, I was able to catch a few winks too. I think I may have finally found the solution to my inability to sleep while traveling — an adventurous expedition trip followed by a day of non-stop walking!

 

January 20 — welcome home

 

We had our smoothest ever arrival in the US after this flight: wheels down at Dulles at 6:50a; through passport control and luggage in hand at 7:20a; through customs within a few minutes after that. By 7:30a, we were in the taxi that deposited us at our front door at 7:55a.

 

It was far colder in DC than it had been in Antarctica; we were ready to turn tail and go right back to the white continent!

 

--------------------------------------------

 

If you have any questions, I will be happy to answer them.

 

Photos will be a while yet; I am just about through with the first half of the trip. I will post a link here when I have them all uploaded.

[Tarheelbelle]

Fantastic review! Thank you for taking the time to post it. I will refer to it many times over the next few months till my cruise next January!

[surething]

Thank you for taking the time to write a great detailed review. We are scheduled on the Corinthian II for Dec 30, 2008. We are only doing Antarctic because of time and money. I know I'll refer back to your review when we start preparing for the trip. Everyone who has gone raves about the trip and I haven't heard a single person regret their decision.

 

Such a long time for us to wait.

Barbara

[Island Cruiser]

Thank you for the wonderful review. I can endorse all of the superlatives you used. We sailed almost the same itinerary leaving Ushuaia 1/20/07 and returning 2/7/07. This was the trip of a lifetime for us. The scenery and the fellowship with the animals too profound for words. We were on the same UA flight you were. Spent two nights in BA pre cruise and then flew down to Ushuaia and boarded the ship on the same day. Our ship was Hapag-Lloyd's Hanseatic. It is rated five stars in the guides and earns every one of them. Magnificent ship and crew. There were 180 passengers, a full ship, 80% German speaking and the others English speaking. We went ashore in two groups (no more than 100 allowed on shore at any given time) so our shore visits were shorter than yours. Our exploration lecturers were marvelous. The Exploration Leader was the dean of Antarctic guides David Fletcher. And we were very very fortunate. We had only 24 hours of rough seas--our second day sailing from the Falklands to South Georgia. Drake Passage was Drake Lake. The crew was very very experienced with this itinerary and they said this was one of the smoothest sailings they had ever experienced.

 

Patrick

[minke]

A superb review that has taken me 2 days to read every word. I envy you your literary ability, i though my review of our december cruise was long, but you leave me standing.

I also envy you the South Georgia part of the trip & the Falklands. We have been back to the Falklands on a cruise about 5 years ago but i do not expect to be able to reach SG again.

Your description of getting in/out the zodiacs was much as I expected & that is why I described the polarCirkel boats as superior to the zodiacs. You had fantastic experiences with the wildlife. I wish i could have done your trip, but my wife will not go & it would have been outside our budget anyway. I was pleased to get the chance to go with Hurtigruten as a single & it exceeded my expectations.

A couple of points, the RN survey ship you saw in Grytviken would have been HMS Endurance, the 2nd one of that name & named for obvious reasons. I was on it's predecessor down there 50 years ago & you saw it's name in white stones in Stanly harbour. It did amuse me when you talked about Hubby's 50th birthday & I thought 'gosh I was down there when he was born' LOL.

My review with a link to my photos is on this board & in reader reviews. A totally different & cheaper pespective to the small ship expeditions that I could not afford! I look forward with baited breath to the link for your photos. I am sure they will be just as superb as your review. Eric

[2552phxcrzr]

the review. I can't seem to do any writing without getting caught up in the details, so hopefully some of that information proves useful to future visitors to the Antarctic.

 

Eric, I remember reading your review and enjoying it; I agree the Polar Cirkle boats would be much easier to get in and out of. I saw Endurance's name in the Falklands and I wondered which Endurance it was referring to. Thanks for the note about it (another detail for my much longer personal trip journal). See attached picture; if you would like me to email you a better resolution photo, post a note here. Hubby and I have talked about the Hurtigruten for a return trip to Antarctica; we certainly cannot afford to go back the same way we did our last trip, and this seems like a nice alternative. In fact, we just uncovered a 65(?) day trip on the new Fram that starts up north and ends way south, and includes Antarctica. Prices starting at around $9000 USD - excellent price; but too bad we're not retired yet :-(

[dgp666]

wow - thank you so much for posting such a detailed review. i read every word of it. i love that you gave detailed descriptions of clothing and such. its going to be very helpful.

[minke]

h2so4, thanks for posting that. there are 2 HMS Endurance, named of course after Shackletons ship. the one you saw in SG is the 2nd. The 1st one was the one caught up on the Falklands war & that would be the one whose name is in the rocks at Stanley. To the left of that name is one called Protector, that was the ship I was on 50 years ago. It had a very close association with the Falklands having operated from there from 1955 - 68 doing the same job in Antarctica that Endurance does now. Obviously without their current technical equipement, it was a converted netlayer from WW II. The name Beagle at the far left of the 4 names is the famous ship that carried Charles Darwin on his voyage. Eric

[2552phxcrzr]

I saw Protector's name as well in Stanley; and the Beagle's too; so now I can add the details you provided to my journal.

[lkbside]

I'm still reading, but wanted to say thanks for posting such a detailed review. My husband and I were on the Hanseatic with Patrick this winter (summer..) Reading your descriptions of the landings is bringing it all back!

 

What was the makeup of the passengers?

[2552phxcrzr]

My list is at the office, but the majority were US; then came the Brits. We also had a few passengers each from Canada, Scotland, Australia, Austria, Switzerland, Japan, Hong Kong. At least these are the countries I recall.

[donaldsc]

Speaking of getting drenched, find a way to protect your equipment on zodiac cruises and in inclement weather both on and off the ship. Ziploc bags, even when zipped, will not suffice in a drenching. You might consider a waterproof casing [can be very expensive] or take a few disposable cameras designed for underwater photography.

 

I purchased small (1 and 4 liter), flexible kayak dry bags at REI. You obviously could not shoot through them but they did nesure that my cameras stayed dry.

 

DON

[2552phxcrzr]

Yes; we had those too; but like you say; you can't take pictures throught them :-(. But they worked great to take our stuff ashore.

[donaldsc]

We had only 24 hours of rough seas--our second day sailing from the Falklands to South Georgia. Drake Passage was Drake Lake. The crew was very very experienced with this itinerary and they said this was one of the smoothest sailings they had ever experienced.

 

Patrick

I was actually disappointed that the Drake Passage was calm on the way back. I was hoping for rough seas just to experience them. On the positive side, we did get to experience a force 10 gale off Cape Horn. It is really neat to stand outside at the bow of the ship in a force 10 gale. As long as stay plastered against the ship, you are OK. If you move off the bow, you have to hold on.

 

DON

[2552phxcrzr]

By now, you’ve probably given up hope that I would ever post my photos from the Antarctica voyage. Fear not! It took me a while, but I am finally done.

 

 

The albums are available under the “2007 Travels” category.

 

Oh no! Did she say “albums?”

 

Well, yes. I did. I organized the pictures that I decided to keep as daily photo journals. So, if you want to relive the trip, you’ll want to browse albums 01-15. There are a lot of pictures in these albums, including the good and the not-so-good ones since I was trying to tell the story of the trip.

 

If you just want to get a sense of the voyage, you’ll want to browse Favorites – Quest for Antarctica. This album has a small selection of “my” favorite photos from throughout the trip.

 

The "Endurance & Shackleton" album consists of a PowerPoint presentation converted to jpegs to provide a synopsis of the saga.

 

How to View the Photos if you are not familiar with SmugMug: once you open the album, you can click a thumbnail to see a larger picture. If you put the cursor on the larger picture, you can change the size of the picture and view the pictures in the “lightbox” mode.

 

I don’t recommend using the “slideshow” button at the top of the page since it automatically loads the pictures sized to your monitor (probably OK if you have a really fast internet connection, but keep in mind that the photos have been resized for the web).

 

If you do want to look at the photos as a slideshow, you can change the default view from the “style” pulldown list at the top of the screen (default will read SmugMug – and you change back to this or another view when you’re finished with the slideshow). You can experiment with the other styles as well to find the one that really suits your personal viewing style.

 

Feel free to leave comments on the website if you’d like – you do not need to be a member to do so.

 

Happy travels!

[Mercury]

h2so4 - Your photos are absolutely lovely! I relived the experience of my 2004 trip to Antarctica through them.

 

Thank-you for sharing. :)

[CamelliaCity]

What a wonderful thread!

 

Never knew I was such a slow reader....took forever to read it all. I lived every minute of it and lingered over it wishing I were there:)

 

Loved the photo albums!