South Orkney – February 7, 2024

We had fairly smooth sailing today. My anti-nausea patch fell off somewhere along the line and I didn’t notice its absence at all. Judy and I slept in and had breakfast at 9 AM. I had a sound drug-induced solid sleep. Judy had stayed up to see the A32a at 1:15 AM so she had a good excuse too. I spent the rest of the morning and into the afternoon getting caught up blog-wise. We did attend the daily briefing I mentioned yesterday. In addition to the weather discussion we learned about ice and albatrosses. Ice is really thick, blue ice is old ice and albatrosses are really big.

I never hear about albatrosses but I recall  photographing albatrosses through a really long telephoto lens in New Zealand. I added to the chum the skipper threw overboard to attract the albatrosses. I asked the skipper of the albatross boat if we were experiencing particularly rough seas. He said, “this is nothing. I once sailed all the way around Antarctica on a research ship. Now THAT was rough.” “Never me,” thought I. Yet here I am.

The big event of the day was our visit to South Orkney Islands. The expedition director sweet talked our captain into an expedition stop on the way to South Georgia. No Viking ship has ever been there and the schedule is tight due to the weather disruptions we’ve experienced. But the captain granted five hours: boats in the water, last boat on board. I think it got done in 5.5 hours.

The guy who named the place was a Scot and wanted to honor his home island chain, the Orkney islands. To the victor goes the naming rights, as they say.

We donned our gear, taking only three attempts to get into my life jacket, and reported to Zodiak Central on A Deck for our 3:30 departure. This was to be a touring hour; shore landings are not permitted here.

We saw chinstrap and gentoo penguins, fur seals (aka sea Lions) and southern elephant seals plus some Antarctic cormorants. We dodged rain that had been falling earlier so it was a very productive trip.

But as usual, the ice sculptures continually demanded our attention. Shingle Bay, where we operated, is full of glaciers, the kind that form at the top of a mountain and, as the snow compresses to form dense blue-colored ice, the whole thing slides down the mountain until it meets the sea. At that point the ice on the leading edge drops off, “calves,” to creat an iceberg plus shards of ice that float in the bay, just as we experienced yesterday. Unlike Antarctica where the glaciers tend to be part of a massive ice sheet, South Orkney has individual stand-alone glaciers. It reminded us of the glaciers we saw in Glacier Bay, Alaska.

We returned to our stateroom, did more blogging and movie creation and hit the chow line for dinner. Dinner was quite pleasant, up on Deck 5 with open views of the South Orkneys and icebergs floating by.  

Then an 8:30 performance, which was the first, and maybe only, stage entertainment event on this cruise. The act was a towering Hungarian solo violinist who played classical favorites, movie sound track songs, and even Frank Sinatra transcribed for the fiddle. Port wine and bourbon were served. Lots of fun!

Today the captain informed us that we’re going to experience more rough weather as we travers the open sea that is part of the Drake Passage. Never fear, I’ve got my patch ready to go so hopefully this won’t be as bad as last time.

Recess Cove, Antarctica – 2/5/2024

So today’s the day – feet on the actual continent of Antarctica. Big woop. We’re on the tip of the Antarctica peninsula that stretches out toward South America the way a child’s hand reaches toward Mama when she drifts away.

A few hundred million years ago (experts seem to disagree on the exact date), the continent called Gondwana consisted, more or less, of Africa, South America, Australia and Antarctica. Plate tectonic action being what it is, all those continents agreed to go their separate ways. The last division was when Antarctica and South America split, maybe 40 million years ago. Today the Drake Passage spans the distance between the two.

Bottom line: sure, we’ve been to continental Antarctic, and I’m happy for it. But to say we’ve seen Antarctica is like saying you’ve seen the United States after visiting Miami.

While we waited for our trip, we were able to observe humpback whales having breakfast all around the ship. Must be a fertile feeding ground.

Our zodiac left at 11:00 AM in a steady rain. Temps in the mid 30s again. Visibility low in fog and the rain. Half way there (a 20 minute ride, perhaps) we encountered a vast field of ice. There were the usual large ice bergs, of course. But these were chunks of ice ranging from stone size to maybe three or four feet in diameter. Our driver had to slow down and pick his way through the field.

The ice field was caused by a nearby glacier that was actively calving new icebergs. While we were on land there were three or four such calving events. No warning, of course but there was a loud boom and roaring splash sound. A few minutes later waves would wash up on the shore where we were, maybe a half mile away. I wasn’t quick enough to catch the aftermath of one the calving events like I did 15 years ago in Alaska. The old boy is slowing down, I guess.

No wildlife except a Kelp gull or two. But the views, as always, were fantastic. The rain and low visibility added to the mystery of the scene.

Back on board and after a shower to warm up we had lunch and got to fretting. We’ve been bugging the expedition staff because we wanted another trip off the ship. There were several SOB (Special Operation Boat) trips for the afternoon, all booked full. Finally, one staff member suggested we go fully dressed and prepared to go to fill in any last minute no-shows. We did so and sure enough we made a boat that left just before 3 PM.

That makes us sound pretty savvy, right? Not quite. I realized maybe half-way to the boarding area that I didn’t have my key card – left it in the stateroom. Ran halfway back in full regalia and realized without a key I couldn’t get my key. Back to Judy in the boarding area. Back to the room. Back to the boarding area. “Jon, we need our Quiet Boxes so we can hear the guide.” Back to the room. Back to the boarding area. “Quick, follow me!” Demanded the boarding agent. Each trip was maybe half the length of the boat. Good news: my watch says I achieved my exercise goal for the day!

But what a great trip it was. To start, we motored out from the ship maybe half an hour. Our goal was to find the humpback whales that were feeding in the area. Earlier trips had had great success. But all we saw was icebergs. No whales.

But that wasn’t all bad. Icebergs have a definite personality. Some resemble animals or people. Some resemble massive edifices. Some are works of art with swirls and angles that please the eye or challenge one with disquieting shapes. White and blue are the dominant colors, with a black spot or two if the berg took along some rocks when it calved. It’s sort of like laying in a hammock watching clouds pass by, imagining what each cloud might represent. Who cares about whales? See one, you’ve seen ‘em all. Not so with clouds. The weather had switched from rain to snow, making the experience even more surreal,

On the way back, maybe 10 minutes from the ship, sure enough we saw one, then two, then three whales putting on a show less than 100 yards from our SOB. One was a young calf, probably learning how to swim and feed with its mom. The object of the game for the whales was to dive down, pushing its tail in the air to get better diving speed and to put on a show for the tourists. Once down, they’d take on a big mouthful of krill. Krill resemble a shrimp (but they’re not), maybe two to three inches long in these parts. So it takes a pretty big mouthful to feed a 40-ton humpback. Sure they’ve gotta eat, but you can’t convince me that those whales aren’t having a whale of a time doing all that fancy swimming and diving.

Back on board, we went through our second de-robing of the day, chilled until 5:30 and went to the all important daily briefing. On other cruise trips, the tour director tells you about tomorrow’s port, where to meet the bus to go see the cathedral, where to buy trinkets, and so on. On this trip, it’s something entirely different.

Right now, we, and 12 other expedition ships, are cruising in the lee of the Antarctic Peninsula, the eastern side. Between us and South Georgia Island, the Falkland’s, Ushuaia, just about anywhere, there’s a pretty big low pressure area. Winds forecast to be 57 knots. None of the ships want to subject their paying passengers to that. It looks really bad on Trip Advisor if everyone writes in with barfing stories. Thupshot is that we’re going to wander around the peninsula tomorrow, maybe going to a place where Orca whales might be seen, but who knows. Then, assuming the storm starts to move on, we’ll head for the Orkney Islands, halfway between here and South Georgia. Viking has never been there but, hey, it’s a destination that hopefully gives the storm more time to move on.

The expedition staff keeps telling us that this is what we all signed up for: an expedition. And expeditions are all about uncertainty. Viking and the other ships have all the technology to keep us safe so this isn’t like Amundsen, Scott and Shackleton adventuring. Judy and I have decided we really like this kind of travel.

We had dinner in the Italian restaurant called Manfredi’s. It’s exactly the same as the Manfredi’s on the Orion when we sailed Australia several years ago. Wait, that was last November? Time flies.

The final event of the evening was the launching of a weather balloon. The data from our ballon is fed to NOAA. Balloons all over the world are launched twice a day at the exact same time to give NOAA data about worldwide weather conditions.

We woke up this morning with no idea what we would be doing. Tomorrow we’ll wake up and not even know where we are!

Astrolabe Island 2/4/4/25

More expedition -ing this morning. First a 9 AM tour of this harbor in one of Viking’s two Special Operations Boats (SOB) followed by a 10:30 AM zodiac landing.

The wind here today is light, partly because of our position. We’re positioned on the lee side – the eastern side – of Astrolabe and the Antarctic peninsula and hence sheltered from the westerlies typical of Antarctica. Temperature is hovering around 32 F. Cloudy skis.

The SOB was designed to give the military fast and rugged water transport. They say it can be dropped from a helicopter. Our version seats 10 passengers, a driver and tour guide. We motored along the shore and around ice bergs, seeing penguins almost everywhere. The ride was quite comfortable and the scenery really something to write home about.

The second trip was at 10:30. Since it requires the same clothing mix as we wore for the SOB (all three layers as yesterday), we didn’t have to undress and redress.

The zodiac ride was as smooth as riding in your father’s Buick Electra. Not a single face full of water. Again we traveled in close to see penguins and seals. Next we landed on the island and got out to observe the chinstrap penguins. Waddell seals occupied one side of the beach and fur seals the other. The penguins, and if there was one there was a zillion., were perched on the side of a mountain slope.

Why up the side of a mountain? Beats me. Someone suggested they we’re nesting but that’s supposed to be something done in the spring – November-ish. Hatchlings wouldn’t have time to develop wintertime feathers. Maybe they’re afraid of the seals down on the beach.

One things for sure, they’re easy to spot. If the incessant squawking doesn’t lead you in the right direction the stink will.

Penguins are fun to watch as they waddle from one place to another. How such an ungracefully creature can scale a mountain is a mystery for me.

The beach where we landed was made up of smallish rocks, 2 to 4 inches in diameter and polished by eons of wave action, I presume. The rocks made exiting and entering the zodiacs something of a challenge.

We made it back to our cabin for the undressing ritual, which takes half an hour going and coming. Judy wrestled together two loads of laundry. That gave us 40 minutes to grab a burger before it was dryer time.

Speaking of layered clothing, I think we’re overdoing it a bit. Putting on all those layers makes us old fogies feel like real expeditioners, like Amundsen, Scott and Shackleton. Hey, it’s just 32 out. Most of us have probably shoveled snow in this kind of weather with just jeans and a mid weight jacket. Carter and Griffin would do it in shorts. But hey, playing dress up is fun at any age.

We’re goofing off in our room until the Daily Briefing to find out where we’re going tomorrow. Right now we don’t have a clue. The decision will be driven by weather, I’ll bet. More later.

At the daily briefing we learned that tomorrow’s destination is Recess Cove where we are scheduled to make a landing on the true continent of Antarctica, not some hangers-on island. We paid good money for bragging rights, after all.

Dinner was in the Dining Room. The evening lecture was on Cataceans of the southern Ocean – whales, dolphins and porpoises.

Sorry for the multitude of pictures. One of our guides said, “People come to Antarctica for the penguins. They return for the ice.” The ice, both on land in the form of glaciers and the ice bergs floating everywhere are stunning works of art. I can’t resist!

Our Fears are Conquered –Discovery Island – 2/3/24

Leaving home, we had two worries keeping us up nights and wondering if we’d done the right thing in going on this trip. Now that we’ve crossed the dreaded Drake Passage, and now that we’ve clambered into and out of the zodiac boat without bodily damage or badly bruised egos, both of our worries have been put to rest. The rest of the trip should be a piece of cake.

We arrived at Discovery Bay, Antarctica pretty much on schedule – 1 PM. (BTW, I misspoke in my Feb 2 blog. Astrolabe is tomorrow, not today.)

Starting midmorning we saw a parade of ice bergs, many bigger than a house and some not big enough to cool your favorite imbibition.Click, click, click went the camera.

 The expedition du jour (del día since we’re in the part of Antarctica claimed by Argentina) was a ride in a zodiac to get up close and personal with the shore line. We donned all our expedition gear: a base layer, a middle layer,  topped of with waterproof jacket and pants plus boots that come halfway up the calf. Not bad considering air temps in the low thirties. There was a fair wind blowing and of course wind from the zodiac’s movement. The big deal was that when the zodiac hit a wave, which was often, we were treated to a face full of Antarctic sea water.

Actually, our zodiac driver told us that the wind and wave conditions were at the edge of their go-no go point. In fact, some zodiac trips were called back early and other trips after ours were canceled. We didn’t see many signs of wild life, but our expedition leader told us, “don’t worry, you’ll see lots and lots of penguins soon enough.

I won’t try to describe what we saw; I’ll let the pictures do the talking. The ice formation, both on the island and  Discovery Bay, are spectacular.

We did dinner in the restaurant, attended a lecture from the guest historian who talked about the evolution of sailing craft, leading up to today’s expedition ships, including the Octanis. Then a BBC movie about Antarctica wild life. Now you know why I finked out on the blog last night. The other problem is that I’m taking way too many pictures.

Tomorrow, Astrolabe Island and two expeditions, one the Special Operations Boat and the second a zodiac landing on the island.