Antarctic Classic ExpeditionAntarctic Peninsula Expedition, February 27- March 7, 2008

With G.A.P Adventures aboard M/V Polaris

Text by Christopher GilbertEdited (made legible) by Heidi Krajewsky

Antarctica2008

POLARIS

Antarctica2008

POLARIS

February 27: Ushuaia, Tierra del Fuego, Argentina; Beagle Channel

Noon Position: 54˚49’S/68˚18’WTemperature: 10˚ CBeaufort Force: 1Conditions: Sunny with scattered clouds, breezy

“Channel about 1 ½ miles wide, hills on both sides above 2000’ high…scenery very retired – many glaciers, uninhabited, beryl blue, most beautiful, contrasted with snow.”

Charles Darwin – description of the Beagle Channel

There are few times in life when you feel really lucky to be in the right place at the right time… but maybe, just maybe, this is one of those times. The ship’s company - only 64 passengers, 10 expedition staff, and 36 crew - would be steaming to the White Continent for what would surely be one of the greatest expeditions in the history of humankind… possibly.

Maybe I’m a little biased, but if you ask me, our ship – Polaris – looked the most adventurous of the select marine tonnage alongside the Ushuaia pier. There’s something strangely alluring about a ship with Russian Cyrillic emblazoned on the bow – ПОЛАРИС. She’s a serious ship with the highest ice-class rating, 1-A, below an ice-breaker. Double-hulled with steel plating 18mm thick, strong reinforcing stanchions every 30cm along her 70m length, and more Zodiacs than you can shake a paddle at, we’d shortly be getting down to business and heading for the Drake Passage.

Passengers enjoyed refreshments in the bar, checked in at reception, settled into their cabins, and explored the ship. Speaking of which…

Starboard or steerboard, is a composite of two Anglo Saxon words. Steer meaning helm or rudder, and board meaning side. In early ships the rudder was slung from the right hand side (looking forward) of the ship, as it was more convenient for the helmsman to steer with his right hand. Eventually, starboard came to designate the right hand of the ship. As the rudder was on the right side of the ship, it was natural to go alongside the pier (or port) for cargo loading with the left side, which was always clear. Hence, the left hand side of the ship came to be known as port.

At 17:15 our Expedition Leader, Stephen Anstee, introduced the expedition staff and gave us a brief overview of the ship and safety procedures. Passenger Information & Services Technician (PIST) Rich Heller discussed life onboard and the intricate workings of our cabins, the restaurant and the bar.

At 1830 Polaris slipped her mooring lines and turned slowly eastward into the Beagle Channel. All were on deck, surveying our departure from the bridge-wings and stern, enjoying the last view we would have of Ushuaia – of civilisation - for the next ten days.

Ushuaia, or “bay that penetrates to the west” in the indigenous Yaghan tongue, is a flourishing duty-free port with a fishing industry famous for its southern king crab (centolla). The rugged spine of the Andes stretches the entire length of the South American continent, coming right down to meet the sea here in Patagonia. With a rapidly growing population of 55,000, Ushuaia is one of the most southerly cities in the world, and also the most popular jump-off point for travel to Antarctica.

Shortly after departure, the general alarm sounded for a mandatory lifeboat and safety drill. Passengers donned their carrot-orange life jackets and serious faces while mustering at their respective lifeboats. Attendance was taken, safety details given, and then, back to exploring the ship.

Before dinner we gathered again in the bar to be formally introduced to the captain, Vasily Kozlovskiy and his officers (most of whom are named Alexander), everyone raising glasses of bubbly in a toast to the ship, the trip, and safe passage. We then sat down to the first of many fine meals prepared by Executive Chef Esteban Vercen as the Polaris sailed down the Beagle Channel. The channel was named for Captain Robert Fitzroy’s ship, whose second voyage here brought along a solitary paying passenger - a young man who would revolutionize the way we view the world - Charles Darwin. Although darkening after dinner, it was still a beautiful evening to be out on deck, as Argentina slipped by off our port side, Chile off our starboard.

Most of us turned in early, but a few gathered for a nightcap, or wandered out to take in the fresh evening air. Around midnight, Polaris left the comforts of Tierra del Fuego’s protective shores, and headed out into the open sea. Would we find Neptune in a benevolent mood this journey?…

February 28: The Drake Passage

Noon Position: 56˚59’S/64˚07’WTemperature: 10˚ CBeaufort Force: 3Conditions: Sunny

“The fair breeze blew, the white foam flew, the furrow followed free; we were the first that ever burst into that silent sea.”

Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Thankfully, Neptune would treat us kindly today. This would prove to be one of the best crossings the Polaris has yet encountered on the Drake this season. Meal-time attendance was commendable, and all of us expedition travellers were optimistic that conditions

would remain the same. The sun shone brightly and those out on deck came inside only when notified that one of our lectures was to begin.

The lecture series kicked-off with Heidi Krajewsky’s “Seabirds of the Southern Ocean”. She discussed the albatrosses and petrels we hope to encounter on our Drake journey south, and we were amazed to learn how far these birds actually fly and how the smallest petrels can survive these oft turbulent seas. We gained a newfound appreciation for the different birds soaring around the Polaris. Shannon Fowler followed with our first lecture on marine mammals. “Balls of Blubber” described the various types of baleen (mysticetes) and toothed (odontocetes) whales. She focused on some of the basic biology and identifying characteristics, and touched a little on the research that has been conducted on these majestic beasts.

After lunch, Barbara Jones treated us to an absorbing beginner’s guide to ice in her lecture “Beauty and the Beast”. Her descriptions of different ice formations, classifications and characteristics were peppered with her own experiences drawn from 16 seasons in Antarctica. A fitting morsel to whet our appetite for the days to come…

Christopher Gilbert rounded out the day’s lectures with “In Search of Antarktos” (or, Antarctic History 101). He relayed the plights and accomplishments of the Antarctic pioneers, from Captain Cook and the early sealers to Wilkes and Ross, to de Gerlache and Bruce.

Later in the afternoon we had our first marine mammal sighting. Two hourglass dolphins sped up to the ship’s wake and rode there for a while. We hoped that they would swim closer, but they eventually pulled away, disappearing into the Drake’s swells.

Polaris steamed southward, closing the distance to the Antarctic convergence; the sea temperature steadily dropping. The Antarctic Convergence delineates where warmer waters from the north collide with the colder, denser, and less saline waters from the south. As the colder, denser water sinks beneath the warmer the upwelling brings nutrients to the surface. Found between 40ºS and 60ºS, the Convergence is marked by a sudden drop in water temperature. This is the biological limit of the Antarctic ecosystem and though there is often an increase in wildlife, there is no visible change in the seas. Enormous amounts of krill lurk below the surface south of the Convergence, providing an abundant food supply for birds and marine mammals. The sole minus (versus the many pluses) to not experiencing high winds in the Drake is that you encounter fewer sea birds. However, as the day wore on, the Polaris was joined by several black-browed and one wandering albatross, as well as a variety of petrels (Wilson’s and Black-bellied Storm and Southern Giant) – avian company, at last!

The evening’s entertainment was one of the brilliant Blue Planet films, Frozen Oceans. The all-time master of narration, David Attenborough, introduced us to life in the Polar seas.

February 29(!): The Drake Passage

Noon Position: 60˚49’S/58˚55’WTemperature: 5˚ CBeaufort Force: 5Conditions: Sunny, with periods of fog and haze

“I now belong to a higher cult of mortals, for I have seen the albatross.”Robert Cushman Murphy

Happy Leap Year everyone! This year I’ll have my extra day in Antarctica, thanks very much…

Our second day in the Drake was calmer than the first, or was it that we were finally getting our sea legs beneath us? The faces appearing at breakfast looked well rested, and many confessed to enjoying the gentle roll of the ship during the night. The Drake Passage opened geologically about 22 to 30 million years ago, and connects the Atlantic with the Pacific Oceans south of Tierra del Fuego. To the south, the South Shetland Islands bound this 800-900 km wide waterway. The Drake played an important part in the trade of the 19th and early 20th centuries before the opening of the Panama Canal in 1914.

The passage has an average depth of 3400 m (11,000 feet), with deeper regions of up to 4800 m (15,600 feet) near the northern and southern boundaries. The winds through the Drake Passage are predominantly from the west and are most intense in the northern half. Cyclones (atmospheric low-pressure systems with winds that blow clockwise in the Southern Hemisphere) formed in the Pacific Ocean traverse the passage towards the Atlantic and are squeezed through this relatively narrow passage between Tierra del Fuego and Antarctic Peninsula.

Our Expedition Leader, Stephen, greeted us at 0730 with his ‘good-morning, good-morning’ greeting. You may dislike when he disturbs your slumber, but you’ll miss his Aussie-Canuck lilt and cheeky morning demeanour once you’re back in Ushuaia. Okay, maybe not.

Once again there was a full programme of learning. Christopher began the lecture circuit with “Nordenskjöld and a Penguin Egg”. The talk concerned two separate but equally

Sir Francis Drake

amazing accounts of Antarctic exploration – the ‘Winter Journey’ (1911) from Scott’s Terra Nova expedition, and the bizarre escapades of Nordenskjöld’s Swedish Antarctic Expedition (1901-04). These stories gave every passenger a good understanding of the true grit (and unwavering tenacity) of the Deep South pioneers. How many people in the audience were left wondering what it might feel like for one’s teeth to shatter with cold…to eat seal steak, then penguin stew day-in day-out for nine months straight? We might hear a little more about the Swedish expedition on our own voyage as we sail into the waters and along the coasts discovered by those men.

Next up, Stephen provided an IAATO (International Association of Antarctic Tour Operators) and Zodiac briefing. He discussed operational procedures, tourism guidelines, and appropriate behaviour around wildlife (no, you can’t take a penguin home). Chris Dolder, Polaris model extraordinaire, posed with our sharp new lifejackets, in this season’s must-have colour, red.

Many spent the late morning on deck scanning the waves for whales – the bridge had reported seeing blows briefly during the morning. Eagle-eyes spotted several whales this morning, including a pair of blowing fin whales that were quite close to the ship just before lunch. Also at mid-day, the bright sky turned hazy, but when this cleared, a bevy of albatross had appeared, soaring about the ship for the afternoon – none more beautiful than the wandering albatross. This brief encounter with fog is usually our indicator of the Antarctic Convergence; we have arrived in the Antarctic Ecosystem!

After lunch folks descended upon the lecture room for Heidi’s talk “Brushtail Penguins” where she provided an intelligent and informative insight into the plentiful penguins we hope to see during our trip, including gentoos, Adélies, and chinstraps. She discussed the identifying characteristics, as well as some of the basic biology of these birds. Using convincing underwater images, she argued that although they do not fly through the air, penguins have developed a commendable capacity to fly through the water.

Most of us had got our sea legs by this afternoon and the swells had calmed a fair amount. For those of you who were unaware…the Beaufort Wind and Sea Scale was devised in 1805 by Commander Francis Beaufort RN for the purpose of setting standards at sea. He had no means of measuring wind speeds, so the original scale was based entirely on how winds of different strengths affected sailing ships and disturbed the sea’s surface. The scale has been modified and developed over the past two centuries, but is still the global naval standard.

Our lecture series continued with Shannon’s “The Feather Footed”, a lecture on the pinnipeds (true seals and fur seals) that we should be encountering during our expedition. The name pinniped means feather (or fin) footed and refers to a seal’s long fore and rear flippers. Shannon discussed basic biology and identifying characteristics, as well as some of the recent research that scientists have been undertaking on Antarctic pinnipeds.

Following Shannon we all strolled up to reception to meet with Rich and set up our shipboard accounts (I thought only the tea and biscuits were mandatory). Around this

time, history was made by Hulda Shannon – spotter of our first iceberg. Well done Hulda! But ice wasn’t the only sight to be seen – around the ship there were porpoising chinstrap penguins, a solitary fur seal, and hourglass dolphins, this time off of our bow. We also got our first sight of whales up close, as two massive fin whales passed us at a graceful, unhurried pace.

To cap off our informative talks for the day, Chris Dolder spoke about, well…ice caps. Ok, so it was really about the Ross Ice Shelf, but hopefully you appreciate the literary effort. His lecture “Cold Enough to Freeze the Balls off an Englishman” related his experience of living in an Antarctic field camp, run by the New Zealand Antarctic programme. Chris gave us a true ‘insider’s perspective’ on what living on the ice entails – from project goals to logistics to bodily functions, we are all glad to be here, visiting this magical place aboard a warm, dry ship. And yes, they did freeze off.

At 1830 Heidi made an announcement from the bridge: “Land Ho!” The South Shetland Islands hove into view on the horizon. Brilliant – we had survived the Drake Passage and were getting our first glimpse of this, the most isolated land on the planet.

Throughout the course of the late afternoon and early evening, the Polaris was surrounded by a soaring flock of cape (pintado) petrels. These beautiful birds flew very near to the ship and our lenses – first great photo-ops! We made our way into dinner, where we continued to watch the petrels fly past our windows. There was no

entertainment scheduled for this evening, and for good reason - the entertainment was out on deck. Wildlife, icebergs, and…Antarctica!

March 1: Antarctic Sound

Noon Position: 63˚25’S/56˚46’WTemperature: 0˚ CBeaufort Force: 9, gusting to over 60 knotsConditions: overcast, fog, snow, hail, fire and brimstone

“The ice was here, the ice was thereThe ice was all aroundIt cracked and growled, and roared and howled,Like noises in a swound.”

Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Today was not so much of a wildlife day - let’s say more of a wild life day. The high winds had slowed our ship during the night, and as the morning progressed the winds increased. And when one sails into the Weddell Sea, along with those strong winds and currents come all forms of ice – brash, tabular, growlers, and the like. Ice in any shape or form is hazardous when it is hurling towards one’s hull, and the captain and his officers were wise to take extra precaution for our safety this morning. We had intended and hoped for a landing at Devil Island, but by mid-morning it was clear we would have to abort the attempt due to safety.

From the early morning until well after breakfast we pushed our way into the Weddell Sea. But with gale force winds gusting to over 60 knots, we eventually had to change our

plan, and we set sail for Brown Bluff – a beautiful place at the tip of the Antarctic Peninsula (yes, on the continent proper). It was a bona fide experience out on deck this morning, watching, feeling, and listening to what Nature was heaving at us. We sailed past massive beautiful blue and white tabular icebergs coming deep from the Weddell Sea, perhaps from the shrinking Larsen Ice Shelf or even further south. The ice, plus the raging

seas, set the mood for tale of polar privation and survival, and we joined Christopher for an impromptu lecture “The Silent Men Who Do Things”. His talk retold the tale of Shackleton and his men on the Endurance, the loss of their ship to the Weddell ice, their further plight, Elephant Island, South Georgia, and the rescue. Yup, that about sums it up! Although many of us were familiar with the story, hearing about this epic adventure never tires, and we could appreciate their plight even more as we sat through the gale in Antarctic Sound!

During the afternoon Stephen was back looking for alternatives. It was becoming clear that we were not going to be able to land at Brown Bluff today, or anywhere else. We were getting telexes from other ships that were getting blown out of their landings far to the south down the western side of the peninsula. Our only option was to be patient and see what the weather would bring over the coming hours. So how to amuse ourselves…

While we were out on deck (well okay, most of us on the bridge or within the shelter offered by the bridge wings) Heidi got out the anemometer – anewhaa? Yes, the funny little device that resembles ice cream scoops stuck to a dial actually measures wind speed. It can measure winds up to 60+ knots. Well, while we held onto Heidi’s ankles

(no, seriously) she held onto the anemometer, and the reading was off the dial! Our proud ship was being pummelled by ferocious winds clocking over 60 knots (110+ km). There would be no landing today. Out on deck there would be no standing. Nonetheless, the light and cloud and blue sky on the horizon as we sailed past Joinville Island (named by d’Urville in 1838) was a wonderful sight. We could only imagine what it must have been like for the explorers who first ventured here in wooden sail boats.

For a little respite from the gales this afternoon we joined our Argentine doctor, Daniel, and our Russian boatswain, Konstantin, in the lounge as they took turns playing the guitar and serenading us with international folk music. Two very different styles and voices, each so pleasing to our ears – a really nice

treat for all. Later we joined Chris Dolder in the lecture hall where he related his experience of hiking across South Georgia from King Haakon Bay to Stromness. Chris and a small team had walked in the footsteps of Shackleton, Crean and Worsley, the first humans to ever cross the island after their harrowing

sail from Elephant Island in 1916. Great photographs accompanied Chris’ fascinating talk.

After dinner Stephen recapped the day’s events (i.e. the weather and our multiple attempts at finding a landing) and then discussed the plans for tomorrow. It appeared that the winds would die somewhat, and we would try our luck at tiny Gourdin Island. If successful, we would return to the Antarctic Sound and see if could land at Brown Bluff. Fingers crossed.

The evening closed with a screening of Christopher Gilbert’s documentary film ‘Hell Frozen Over’. This account of Douglas Mawson’s solo survival trek during the Australasian Antarctic Expedition of 1911 – 1914 remains one of the most harrowing tales of Polar exploration. A credit to Mawson that after the death of his comrades Belgrave Ninnis and Xavier Mertz, he firstly survived and secondly returned twice more to Antarctica. After the screening, Gilbo answered questions and explained a little more about Vitamin A poisoning and the fate of the men.

The Polaris headed out into the Bransfield Strait. The safest way to sail through dense fog, in waters that are peppered with massive chunks of ice, is to be out in the open sea. With high open seas we once again experienced the swell beneath our hull, but for most of us, our sea legs were getting stronger.

March 2: Gourdin Island; Brown Bluff (Antarctic Peninsula)

Noon Position: 63˚32’S/56˚55’WTemperature: 0˚ CBeaufort Force: 3Conditions: overcast, fog, snow, and rain, but no fire and brimstone today!

“An Antarctic expedition is the worst way to have the best time of your life.” Apsley Cherry-Garrard

Early this morning the weather was still unkind, however, the wind had died enough for us to attempt a landing on Gourdin Island. The Zodiac ride in was magical. Our first ‘up-close’ experience in Antarctica and we were escorted into the landing site by fur seals and porpoising penguins. We sped past a couple of massive blue icebergs, through a narrow rocky channel, and then pulled up to the beach. Stephen was there to greet us for our first footsteps in Antarctica, as were the fur seals and penguins on the shore. Also scattered around the shore were Weddell seals hauled out for a rest. During the landing more Weddells would haul out, and we watched as their great bulks impossibly undulated over the rocky shoreline.

We were in for a real treat this morning, something one doesn’t often see on these voyages. We had all three species of brushtail penguins here – gentoo, chinstrap, and Adélie. It’s funny, we think of penguins as looking rather alike, but when you encounter the different species side by side, you can see how different they really are – in shape, size, and marking. This was our introduction to the Snowy Sheathbill as well, the only non-sea bird in

the Antarctic. Heidi thinks they look like a cross between a chicken and a pigeon (I concur), but whatever your impression, you can see what expert scavengers they are. We were able to forget the weather – the sleet, snow, and rain – this morning. Look at the chicks! We spread out across the site, some with viewfinders stuck to our eyes, others just sitting and enjoying – many oscillating between the two. Gourdin is not an oft visited place and this fact, and the chicks were eager to check us out, approaching us, full of curiosity, and now and again taking a peck at our rain pants. Brilliant! Not to be outdone, a couple of leopard seals swam along the beach. Looking for young prey, they brought our seal species count to three as well – a pretty remarkable first landing, indeed.

But from the landing, we had to get back to the ship. With rough seas, re-boarding was a bit of a struggle. However, with two stalwart Russian seamen at the gangway, all passengers managed well, and after a touch of spray and excitement, we were able to relax and warm our toes.

Once the staff had returned we convened for a recap – Heidi added more information about the odd Snowy Sheathbill and brushtail penguins and answered queries from

inquiring minds. Stephen followed, briefing us on our potential afternoon landing at Brown Bluff (if at first you don’t succeed…). Just before lunch the captain offered us to venture out onto the foredeck – brilliant timing, as a minke whale was spotted swimming near the ship.

We steamed back into Antarctic Sound for another attempt at Brown Bluff. This time we would nail it. Not only this, but we’d have a ‘double excursion’ – a landing followed by a Zodiac cruise.

Brown Bluff is a flat-topped ancient englacial volcano, i.e. it was formed beneath the ice. Difficult to age, it is thought to have formed roughly 1 million years ago. Its rock face rises to an impressive 745 m. Many of the large boulders on the beach were composed of volcanic ash in which lava lumps and basaltic rocks had been embedded during the eruption. It is a staff favourite for many reasons. The setting is spectacular, the massive dark brown

cliffs rising from a rocky beach that is strewn with beautiful chunks of blue and white and crystal clear ice. On the beach a plethora of wildlife awaits – gentoo and Adélie penguins roam about among the lolling (and grumpy) fur seals. Here we could once again just sit and wait for the young penguins to approach us. That is, if we weren’t too distracted by the amusing feeding chases. Parents and chicks were racing across the rocks, the former likely training their young, the latter in pursuit of a hot meal of, well, regurgitated krill. The falling and squawking and pandemonium kept us all amused during our visit.

Most of us joined in the hike, led by Chris Dolder, up the ridge for a view of the offshore bergs and to overlook the expansive glacier. Our time at Brown Bluff seemed so short. So much fantastic wildlife and scenery makes you lose sight of the time. Oh, and by the way, Brown Bluff is on the Antarctic Peninsula proper – a proper continental landing for all, a seventh for some.

We took 45 minutes on board to warm up a little and gobble down some nutritional snacks before setting out on our first Zodiac cruise. Brown Bluff is one of the greatest places to cruise around incredible ice - massive, all shades of blue and incredible shapes. Near the glacial front leopard seals were hauled out on ice floes or swimming around our boats, in search of a penguin lunch. These serpentine-looking beasts are masterful, stealthy hunters.

Being so close to a glacier in such a small vessel gave an impression of just how huge the ice – shelves, glaciers, bergs – is in Antarctica. Looking back towards the Polaris, we were amused at how small our ship seemed in comparison to the surrounding icebergs. We turned from the glacier to push our way through the dense brash ice, taking time to turn off our engines and just sit and listen to the crackle, pop, and sizzle of the ice bobbing and heaving in the sea. We then sailed a circuitous route back to the ship, floating among some enormous blue ice. The light this afternoon was perfect, glimmering but not too harsh. Oftentimes, the best photographs are those taken while in the Zodiacs.

We returned just in time for dinner, and Stephen followed with a briefing for tomorrow’s landings. Shannon then spoke in more detail about the three seal species we’d seen today. A monster day for all, with three excursions, and we were all ready for bed. But then it was announced what would take place tonight - the greatest competition since the last ice age, since the days of the woolly mammoth and the Bering ice bridge…you guessed it (or not…) “What’s My Antarctic Bluff?” Created by our very own Chris Dolder, this mind bender pitted the gullible against the dire…who would win? In the end, after many donglers and with a tossel of panache, the “Newlyweds” (Christina and Woody) team won without an outrageous score of 5 out of 7 correct answers. A real lurker of a team, they managed to bog chisel their way to the ultimate trophy…a bottle of wine or champagne from Juan. Well done! It was only just gone 2200, but a lengthy day in the weather and ice with a sensory overload of wildlife, and many of us slithered off to bed to dream ephemeral dreams, for we would begin again a few hours hence…

March 3: South Shetlands; Penguin Island, Turret Point, Ferraz Station

Noon Position: 62˚06’S/57˚54’WTemperature: 0˚ CBeaufort Force: 4Conditions: sunshine, few clouds

“All men dream but not equally.”T. E. Lawrence

During the night the ship sailed back across the Bransfield Strait to the South Shetland Islands. This large archipelago was once part of the Antarctic Peninsula. Through a series of extensional faults, they began to separate ca. 1 million years ago from the peninsula. Because of all this plate tectonic activity, volcanoes and evidence of volcanic activity abound.

It was a 0600 wake-up call from Stephen this morning – an early start for an excursion-packed day. After a quick

breakfast we were off the ship, speeding over to Penguin Island, a beautiful small extinct volcano with a dark red hue due to the iron-rich soils. Penguin Island is dwarfed by the much larger King George Island to the north, a place we would hope to visit later this morning.

Not far from our landing site was a young silvery Weddell seal hauled out on the beach, occasionally raising its head to snatch a peak at the passers-by. All along the beach itself were generations of giant petrels, the older looking over the younger for some of their first attempts at flight. Many of the young stood on the rocks and stretched and flapped their wings, eager to take to the air, but perhaps not yet proficient enough to

do so. A number settled for having a bath in the sea. Remarkably, most of these giant petrels were northern, and not the southern species we’re accustomed to seeing down here. The two, which look very similar, can be distinguished by the colouring at the end of their bills (the northern red, the southern green). Up from the beach there was a solitary white fuzzy southern giant petrel chick still sitting on the nest, likely the last chick of the year. The beach was also littered with young fur seals, which coughed and barked at us as we walked by, offended by our very presence. These beasts are so graceful in the water, but on land, often have the appearance of cantankerous canines.

The beach itself was wonderful to walk along. Not only because of the seals and occasional penguin, but strewn over the variegated stones were thousands of bones. Some of these were fur seal and penguin, but most were whale bones. The whalers who first hunted in these waters flensed off the blubber for oil, and then dumped the carcasses on the beach or in the sea. In 1910 the British decreed that the entire body of the whale be utilised, and thus whaling stations started to spring up on various islands in Antarctica (see tomorrow). Most if not all of the bones we find on these beaches are the result of human plunder, not natural causes. In the southern ocean whaling era, ca. 1904-1965, it is estimated that we extinguished 96% of the southern whale populations…another sad blemish on human interaction with nature.

At the far end of the beach we encountered more chinstrap and gentoo penguins, Weddell seals, and our first southern elephant seals, perhaps five of them hauled out on the stony

spit. But before you could say anemometer, it was time for the hike. Stephen led us up Deacon Peak (190m) for some incredible vistas from around the rim of the caldera, especially of King George Island and the surrounding glaciated area. The light shone through the grey cloud cover, highlighting each of the areas it

chose to pass over. We counted about six different shades of ocean, framed by the rusty

red soil beneath our feet and the shimmering glaciers of King George – stunning! The light was so perfect that even Captain Kozlovskiy, our boatswain Konstantin, and several officers joined us on the hike. Our eyes were glued to the scenery, but we also took note to look down near our feet. Here we encountered fabulous silvery-green lichens and, on the way back to the beach, Antarctic pearlwort (one of only two flowering plants in Antarctica).

Just like yesterday, we would only take a short breather back on the ship before heading off again. Many were frantically writing final postcards while the staff scouted out a possible landing beach across the bay at Turret Point, King George Island, as the winds were picking up again and the regular landing beach was too rough for operations. A small rocky beach was chosen, and by 1145 we were zooming over to Turret Pont. It was still not so easy getting from the boats to the shore due to the shallow rocky nature of the site and the surf, and some of us experienced a true ‘wet landing’.

Here we were in for a real seal treat. There were two large elephant seals dozing on the rocks, as well as a Weddell and many, many fur seals. Heidi and Shannon discovered that one of the fur pups was in fact a sub-Antarctic fur seal, rare to see so far south. We noted how orange its fur was, as well as the different markings on its face. Our first up-close encounter with elephant seals was a real treat. The massive males (with the big elephantine schnozzles) are away at open sea feeding during this period until they are ready for next breeding season, October. Incredibly, the two huge elephants here were merely young males.

Heidi and Barbara were also keeping us engaged down by the elephants, but on a much smaller scale. Ironically, right near the largest creatures were the smallest. In the tide pools we found an abundance of miniature marine life - sea cucumbers, a sea star, anemones, snails, and amphipods. Who knew?

Getting off the beach was not as easy as our arrival. With increased surf, we had to ‘rear load’, and we were a little perplexed as we approached the Zodiacs from the wrong end. We managed to stay dry for the most part on our return to the Polaris.

After a late lunch, we steamed over to Admiralty Bay on King George Island. This would be our sole visit to an Antarctic scientific base, Brasilian Comandante Ferraz Station, encircled by a stunning array of glaciers. We were invited in to the main base house by the friendly base staff (the only Antarctic base with a Latin groove pulsing in the background) and following this, we were taken on a guided tour of the base itself. Ferraz, in operation since 1986, is on the site of the earlier British Base G, built in the 1940s during Operation Tabarin. In fact, most of the burials in the cemetery we visited were for British FIDS (Falkland Islands Dependencies Survey) men who died during the 1940s-

50s while working at the base. One man, who was lost at sea, is said to haunt the base to this day.

Ferraz is not a frequently visited base, and we learned that we were only the sixth ship to visit this year. No wonder they were so friendly! Most of the 27 personnel are here for a month or so, but a core group of 10 remain for the entire winter. They obtain their fresh water from a small lake behind the base, but last winter was so harsh that it froze solid, and the staff went three months without washing (ouch!).

Once again the wind was raging, and in this small bay, surrounded by glaciers, they are frequently buffeted by katabatic winds. Two days ago, when we were in the Antarctic Sound trying to land, they experienced 180km/hr (97 knots) winds here! Our windy walk took us to the meteorological houses and the aforementioned cemetery before we wound our way down to the beach to look at the whale bone skeleton the base staff has assembled (from various species). The enormous skulls lying about were surely from blue or fin whales, the largest mammals to ever inhabit the planet.

The base staff had been invited to come aboard for dinner, but the winds were too high, potentially increasing while they were with us on the Polaris. And so we departed our new friends and settled in for a hot dinner. After dinner we had another recap to address tomorrow’s landings. Stephen gave us an overview of the plans, and Gilbo introduced us to the history of Deception Island (sealers, whalers, aviators, and Operation Tabarin). But then the moment we were all waiting for…the announcement that Shannon was the new Swim Team Captain! Shannon implored us all to take the plunge tomorrow and beat the record set last trip (39 swimmers). When asked if they were interested in swimming, most passengers raised their hands. Hmmm, we’ll see how things pan out at water’s edge tomorrow. Overnight the Polaris was nestled in the lee of the South Shetlands. Some chose to slumber early, while others, doing their best to extend the day, remained in the bar into the wee hours.

March 4: South Shetlands; Deception Island; Drake Passage

Noon Position: 62˚59’S/60˚34’W Temperature: 3˚ CBeaufort Force: 8, gusting to over 45 knotsConditions: sunshine!

“No person who has not spent a period of his life in those ‘stark and sullen solitudes that sentinel the Pole’ will understand fully what trees and flowers, sun-flecked turf and running streams mean to the soul of a man.”

Sir Ernest Shackleton (quoting Robert Service)

Polaris’ sleep deprivation experiments continued with another early morning bing-bong. The reason? An optional (though strongly encouraged) sunrise vigil on the foredeck as we slipped through Neptune’s Bellows. This narrow opening in the wall of the caldera was created when a small portion collapsed; the sea subsequently flooded the volcanic crater of Deception Island and Port Foster came into being. The winds were howling once again, and we understood why Deception was a sought after safe anchorage for the early sealers and whalers of the Southern Ocean. However, on days such as this one, there was little protection anywhere from the gales.

There are several notions for the origin of Deception Island’s name, which has been in use since 1821. The most probable is that the early sealers who sighted it missed the opening at Neptune’s Bellows and so were unaware that the island was a flooded caldera (and protected harbour); hence they were ‘deceived’. At the entrance, the rusted remains of the Southern Hunter, wrecked on New Year’s Eve 1956-57, presented a cautionary tale of the necessity for careful navigation through the narrow Bellows.

Deception Island is a landing overflowing with history and spectacular views, but occasionally you see some wildlife here. Today we were greeted by a number of fur seals on the beach and

a solitary gentoo penguin basking in the sun (if one can bask in 40 knot winds). A brilliant sun was shining for us and with clear skies, many of us made our way up to Neptune’s Window for the wonderful view. This we enjoyed, but we were to experience an even more incredible sight – six humpback whales, one of which was continuously breaching (seven times!). What a setting…what a sublime sight.

We also took time to walk among the historical remains that litter the beach. At the far end lies the decaying ruins of the British Antarctic Survey (BAS) aircraft hangar and Biscoe House – the old British Base ‘B’ established by Operation Tabarin (during World War II) and destroyed by a mud/ice slide from a nearby fumarole eruption in 1970. Rusting boilers and whale processing paraphernalia were piled on the beach near the huge empty oil silos, decaying hulks lurching at odd angles in the scoria beach. Further to the south three submerged water boats and the remains of the whalers’ oil barrels (now just a jumble of staves) offered many superb photo opportunities. Norwegian Hektor Whaling Station operated here from 1911-1932. However, the Chileans claim that they were licensing whaling here as early as 1906 with the Magallanes Whaling Company

headed by a retired Norwegian whaler living in Punta Arenas. As mentioned above, the early whaling, before the British government imposed restrictions, was extremely wasteful, most of the whale being left to rot after the easily-removed blubber was flensed. At one time there were an estimated 6,000 whale carcasses (skrotts) floating in Port Foster. The island these days seems so peaceful compared to that time of slaughter. It is pleasing to see Nature finally reclaiming these beaches.

The very beach we were walking along also has an important aviation history. On December 20, 1928 the Australian Sir George Hubert Wilkins took off from Whaler’s Bay on the first major Antarctic flight (about 20 minutes). His next flight in early 1929 flew some 2100 km along the Peninsula. The runway was shaped from the volcanic gravel and ash next to the whaling station. BAS continued to use Deception as a base for flying operations up through the 1960s. Past the BAS hangar, many of us chose to join Chris Dolder up on the far peak for additional terrific views, far back into the interior of Port Foster. But as some ascended, word came over the radio from the bridge that the winds were continuing to build – we would have to expedite our landing (and leaving).

Speaking of aviation, Antarctic Swim Team Captain Shannon and her polar posse were flying into the frigid waters at 1100 in the world’s first attempt at trashing the previous record of 39 swimmers. By then the waters were whipped up into a frenzy. Shannon led her charges in for the plunge (get your head wet!). While the wind raged, some took a few moments to reconsider their decision – it had sounded like fun last night at recap. A great number chose to run in and dunk, resurfacing to gasp a lungful and scream and shriek. Through the howls of pain came hoots of laughter and derision from the crowd. At the end of the day, it would be the second most impressive swim meet of the season - an amazing 34 passengers taking the plunge (not bad for 40 knot winds!).

While the shocking hilarity ensued, the staff was doing their best to navigate the Zodiacs through the surf and catch them on the beach, as the wind was now gusting up to 45 knots. Moderately dry and re-clothed, we scrambled for the boats to whisk us back to the ship: warmth, sauna, tea, and blankets…sorry, wrong picture. The short ride back to the ship was a test of our mettle – towering sheets of frigid salty water soaked us to the skin. Hey, that swim wasn’t so cold after all.

Eventually we managed to warm up, and after a hot lunch, some of us joined Gilbo for his lecture “Hell Served for Breakfast”, the story of the Ross Sea Party. We heard about the men of the Aurora and the depot-laying party. One of the most dramatic Heroic Era expeditions, we were astonished by the men’s determination and grit, enduring incredible hardship without proper supplies and yet still fulfilling their duty – the only British

expedition during the Heroic Era to achieve its primary objective. The trials and toils of the Ross Sea Party have been overshadowed for decades by Shackleton’s exploits on the opposite side of the continent. Finally, their story seems to be attracting more interest.

At recap, Shannon discussed humpback whales and what all that breaching might have been about, and Gilbo talked about the first Polar flights – those lifting off from Deception Island, as well as Roald Amundsen’s Arctic flights. Heidi followed with her evocative spool of string, giving us an idea as to the wing span of many of the birds we’ve seen on our voyage. From the dainty storm petrels to the massive wandering albatross, we were able to get a better perspective on the size of these avian wonders. Stephen capped off recap reminding us that our journey is far from over – sea birds, marine mammals, and plenty more lectures.

Shortly after dinner the Polaris started to roll – we were back in the Drake. Some turned in after a string of exhausting and action-packed days, while others chose to stay up a little longer, chatting well into the evening.

March 5: The Drake Passage

Noon Position: 59˚18’S/64˚03’W Temperature: 5˚ CBeaufort Force: 5Conditions: overcast and foggy with sunny spells

“The continent has become a symbol of our time. The test of man’s willingness to pull back from the destruction of the Antarctic wilderness is the test also of his willingness to avert destruction globally. If he cannot succeed in Antarctica he has little chance of success elsewhere.”

Edwin Mickleburgh

Thankfully, this Drake crossing was even calmer than our southerly one, and almost all on board recorded a decent night’s slumber. It was time for the Drake Lecture Series to begin anew, and guest lecturer Colin Mead opened the morning with his “Composition of Photography – Landscape & Wildlife”, sharing his photographic experiences and tips of the trade with us. At the same time, some chose to watch “March of the Penguins” (an excellent French film with brilliant footage), shown in the forward lounge.

Next up was Shannon Fowler (Dr. Mammals) with her “Hot Bodies in Cold Climes”. Her overview of marine mammals focused on the adaptations that cetaceans and pinnipeds have employed throughout evolution to make the transition to return to a life at sea. Some of the statistics are awe inspiring: southern elephant seals can dive up to depths of 1,500 m, hold their breath for up to two hours, and lower their heart rate to a single beat per minute; humpback’s pectoral flippers can reach up to 5m long!

The lack of wind on this calm crossing meant that there few seabirds to be seen from the ship, even as we crossed the foggy Antarctic Convergence this morning. And so following lunch the focus of Heidi’s lecture “Benthic Invertebrates”, was not the skies above Polaris, but what lives deep below her keel. This lecture was a real treat, especially having encountered some of these creatures at Turret Point. Life beneath the waves is often the Antarctic’s most lively, and with such highly oxygenated and nutrient rich waters, the marine invertebrate community can frequently exhibit gigantism.

Afternoon tea n’ nice munchies were not mandatory today, but a good idea, nonetheless. To close out the day’s lectures, Stephen, Chris and Gilbo chaired a talk/forum on the Antarctic Treaty and tourism in the deep cold south. Gilbo began by introducing the Antarctic Treaty System and the broader issues of governance for Antarctica, from the initial land claims to the articles of the Antarctic Treaty, ratified in 1961 by 12 signatory nations. In reality, the Antarctic Treaty is a diplomatic handshake and its enforcement is complex – relying upon diplomatic pressure rather than an overarching law or enforcing body. Chris followed with an overview of Antarctic tourism – how it all started, and how it began to flourish with the arrival of the Arctic fleet of ice-class ships from a

disintegrating U.S.S.R. in the early 1990s. Tourism remains an unregulated activity in Antarctica and is a subject of much debate amongst national governments at the Antarctic Treaty Consultative Meetings. Stephen and the two C’s answered and discussed many of our questions and concerns in the forum that followed. There were great questions and great interest – thanks to all for the input and concern.

Following our penultimate dinner, “Cape Horn” was screened. The film was originally shot in 1929 by an amateur photographer aboard the four-masted barque Peking as she sailed around the Horn. What the film lacks in professional

cinematography, it gains in sheer breath-taking bravery of the sailor who shot it all – from the heady heights of the main mast to the intimidating and stormy conditions. Would our own approach to the infamous Horn compare?...surely this thought crossed many a mind as we lay down for a reasonable night’s sleep.

March 6: The Drake Passage; Cape Horn; Beagle Channel; Ushuaia

Noon Position: 55˚28’S/66˚25’W Temperature: 15˚ CBeaufort Force: 3Conditions: mixture of sun and cloud

“I am the albatross that waits for you at the end of the earth. I am the forgotten soul of the dead sailors who crossed Cape Horn from all the seas of the world. But they did not die in the furious waves. Today they fly in my wings to eternity in the last trough of the Antarctic wind.” Sara Vial poem inscribed on the albatross sculpture at Cape Horn

This morning – the Horn! With such a calm Drake, the speed of our crossing meant that this was the first time this season the Polaris was able to approach Cape Horn, the most storied and treacherous (and southernmost) cape in the world. Vial’s poem was an appropriate preface for the day, and Heidi read it aloud on deck once we reached our closest point to the Horn. Everyone was out on deck – many of us posing for portrait shots with the Cape as

backdrop. It is often so fogy and rainy here that the Horn is obscured from view, but today we were blessed with clear visibility.

With the Horn receding into the distance, Heidi gave her impassioned talk “Save the Albatross”, wherein she related the sad fate of thousands of albatross and petrels at the hands of fishermen and their longline hooks. On a positive note, she spoke of the ongoing efforts to save these beautiful birds from extinction (and the success stories of the South Georgia and Falkland Islands fisheries – zero mortalities last year), and informed us as to how we can participate in their salvation...it all begins in the bar before dinner.

Later in the morning Shannon delivered her lecture “Intimate Behaviour”. Yes, the thought has crossed all of our minds…Shannon revealed the sexual side of marine mammals, from the size of male whale appendages to the outrageous sexual dimorphism exhibited by the southern elephant seals. Yikes! Umm, several questions followed. And that is correct…two and a half tonnes.

After lunch we got down to business. Chris explained how on earth we were going to get our passports back, as well as the logistics of setting foot back in Ushuaia. And hey, what better way to follow this than having an intimate one-on-one with Rich to settle our accounts. Before we gained our Argentine pilot to navigate up the Beagle Channel we were escorted by a couple of Peale’s Dolphins as they jumped clear of the water in our wake! Fun, yeah, but then we had a dozen dusky dolphins riding our bow for a good half hour – what an escort to Ushuaia!

We gathered in the bar for our final recap with Stephen and company – a summary of our trip and the staff’s expedition highlights. Afterwards we returned to the albatross theme,

as auctioneer extraordinaire Gilbo endeavoured to raise funds for the Save the Albatross Fund. Thank you all for your magnanimous contributions, and may you cherish your mementos from this special voyage forever. Mark, you made more of an impact with the staff than you realise. Thank you.

The ship’s company taken as the Polaris steamed up the Beagle Channel towards our final destination of Ushuaia – Argentina’s southernmost city.

As if out of no-where – somebody saw something off the bow…

March 7: Ushuaia

Noon Position: 54˚49’S/68˚18’WEstimated Temperature: 10˚ C (hey, my deadline was midnight…)Wild Guess Beaufort Force: 3Potential Conditions: windy with a mix of sun and cloud

“What? Back so soon?”Mark Smith

This morning we disembarked the Polaris for the final time. We had successfully finished a journey to one of the most spectacular and compelling places on earth and had done so in good company and aboard a fine, seasoned vessel. We had made new friends, taken a lot of photos, filled journals with impressions, and created memories to last a lifetime.

Thank you for travelling with G.A.P Adventures. We hope to see you again some day soon, north or south, or somewhere in between.

The expedition team (from left to right), Rich, Stephen, Barbara, Heidi, Shannon, Chris & Gilbo.

M/S Polaris OfficersCaptain Vasily Kozlovskiy (Master)Alexander Baruev (Chief Officer)Sergey Romanenko (Passenger Mate)Nikolay Shibaev (Second Officer)Mikhail Tkachenko (Third Officer)Sasha Talanov (Radio Officer)Alexander Kokovin (Chief Officer)

M/S Polaris Hotel & Restaurant StaffEsteban Vercen (Executive Chef)Larissa Tarasenko (Head Waitress & Stewardess)

M/S Polaris Expedition StaffSteven Anstee (Expedition Leader)Chris Dolder (Assistant Expedition Leader)Shannon ‘Schnazz’ Fowler (Marine Mammal Biologist)Christopher Gilbert (Historian)Heidi Krajewsky (Ornithologist)Barbara Jones (Glaciologist)Rich Heller (Passenger Services Director)Daniel Cayuso (Doctor)

Helpful websiteswww.savethealbatross.net (Save the Albatross)www.ats.aq (Antarctic Treaty System)www.iaato.org (International Association of Antarctic Tourism Operators)www.oceanites.org (Antarctic nonprofit)www.seafoodwatch.org (Monterey Bay Aquarium Seafood Watch)www.davidsuzuki.org/oceans/ (State of the Catch) www.sassi.co.za (South African Sustainable Seafood Initiative)www.msc.org (Marine Stewardship Council; UK)

The Quitter By Robert W. Service

When you’re lost in the Wild, and you’re scared as a child,And Death looks you bang in the eye,

And you’re sore as a boil, it’s according to HoyleTo cock your revolver and…die.

But the Code of a Man says: “Fight all you can,”And self-dissolution is barred.

In hunger and woe, oh, it’s easy to blow…It’s the hell-served-for-breakfast that’s hard.

“You’re sick of the game!” Well, now, that’s a shame.You’re young and you’re brave and you’re bright.

“You’ve had a raw deal!” I know – but don’t squeal,Buck up, do your damnedest, and fight.

It’s the plugging away that will win you the day,So don’t be a piker, old pard!

Just draw on your grit; it’s so easy to quit:It’s the keeping-your-chin-up that’s hard.

It’s easy to cry that you’re beaten – and die;It’s easy to crawfish and crawl;

But to fight and to fight when hope’s out of sightWhy, that’s the best game of them all!

And though you come out of each grueling bout,All broken and beaten and scarred,

Just have one more try – it’s dead easy to die,It’s the keeping-on-living that’s hard.

Introductory Bibliography for Antarctic and Sub-Antarctic History

Antarctic and Sub-Antarctic Discoveries:Gurney, Alan. 2000. The Race to the White Continent.Rosove, Michael H. 2000. Let Heroes Speak. Antarctic Explorers 1772-1922.

Shackleton:Alexander, Caroline. 1998. The Endurance.Bickel, Lennard. 1982. Shackleton’s Forgotten Argonauts.Huntford, Roland. 1985. Shackleton.Riffenburgh, Beau. 2004. Nimrod.Tyler-Lewis, Kelly. 2006. The Lost Men.

Scott & Amundsen:Cherry-Garrard, Apsley. 1922. The Worst Journey in the World.Huntford, Roland. 1979. The Last Place on Earth (originally published as ‘Scott and Amundsen).

Mawson:Bickel, Lennard. 1994. Mawson’s Will.Mawson, Douglas. 1915. The Home of the Blizzard (2 vols.).