Well this is it. The final day of expeditioning. There’re two more days at sea but the next time we set foot on dry land will be at Ushuaia, Argentina. According to the original itinerary, the Falkland Islands were to be our first stop. Weather dictated otherwise, and as it turned out today was a very fitting end to a great trip of exploration.

But first, Judy’s still at it. Here’s her video about our trip to Grytviken, the shore excursion requiring our rescue in ferocious winds!

https://judyrick.zenfolio.com/p1039409213/hdab9d926#hdab9d926

West Point Island is owned by Roddy Napier whose great uncle established it as a sheep farm in 1879. It had the usual history, for this region of the world, as a seal and penguin oil production site in the early 19^thcentury until overkill ended the industry here. Today, it continues as a sheep farm and as a tourist stop. In fact, West Point Island was, with Port Stanley, a pioneering tourist stop for expedition trips in the Falklands. The first visitors came here in 1968.

Roddy Napier and those who came after him were active in replanting tussac on the island. Tussac is a favorite habitat for both the albatrosses and penguins. Napier and family also planted gorse, reminiscent, perhaps, of merry old England. But here, as in other places we’ve visited, gorse is an invasive species that takes over from native plants that serve as fodder for sheep. We saw this in New Zealand where colorful gorse could be seen to dominate previous sheep grazing fields.

The main attraction here are the large colonies of Black-browed albatrosses and Southern Rockhopper penguins. The fauna are viewed at the end of a 1.2 mile hike across rolling hills with extraordinary views of the island. Today brings our lifetime penguin count from 5 to 9, adding Chinstrap, King, Gentoo and Southern Rockhoppers on this trip. There are only 18 species in the world so we’re halfway there. We’d seen plenty of Black-browed albatrosses earlier on this trip. And for those keeping score at home, I’ve entered 24 birds into the Merlin app on this trip, penguins included. I guess I’ve become a birder; we’ll see how long it lasts. I could go through the past 20 years of bird photos. The spirt is willing, but . . .

The hike was somewhat challenging. The ground was a bit uneven, the initial hill fairly steep and, worst of all, most of us hiked in our big rubber expedition boots. Because our landing was by zodiac, we were warned to wear them to avoid getting our feet wet.

The reward for making the trek, in addition to the breathtaking views and experience of viewing the birds, was a visit to the cottage occupied by the caretakers, Kiki and Thies. Kiki serves visitors a wide variety of sweet treats along with tea or coffee.

Kiki and Thies, not related to the owners, have an interesting history. The sailboat moored in the bay is the only home they have known for the past 38 years. Originally from Vienna, Austria, they have sailed that craft around the world and have made the sail from the Falklands to South Georgia three times. Kiki told us that the South Georgia trip is difficult because of the weather. Their sailboat lacks a wheelhouse so their foul weather gear is their only protection during storms. And because they lack radar, they must maintain a 7×24 iceberg watch while making the transit.

Life as caretakers on West Point Island must be much simpler since the weather, even in winter, is mild. No snow falls and, judging by the absolutely perfect weather we enjoyed, summer time is great too.

So back on board, our cabin stewards, Ming and Lau, have placed our rubber boots and waterproof pants in the hall for collection, signifying that our adventuring is done. Nothing left to do but eat our way to Ushuaia and home.

We raised the curtain of our stateroom window at 7 AM,  needing to prepare for a 9:15 SOB departure. I only wake when the sun comes up so we had to set an alarm; the window shade is a total blackout affair. We were greeted with a view of a fishing vessel – Asian of some sort – Chinese? Taiwanese? – and views of Port Stanley harbor. Soon, a Southern Giant-Petrel and a pair of Kelp Gulls flew by. The birders on board tell me there’s no such thing as a sea gull. They all have a name, and there’s a ton of them worldwide.

And, what’s that spec half way between here and the fishing ship? Could it be? Yes! It’s a penguin and one we haven’t seen yet, a Magellanic Penguin. What’s he doing there all by him/herself?

Enough sightseeing. Off to the World Café to stoke up for the morning run, then into our regalia – red jacket, black water repellent pants, rubber boots and that infernal life jacket that, lo and behold, I managed to put on without assistance in what would prove to be the only time on this entire trip, I’m, ashamed to say.

The Special Operations Boat(SOB) ride lasted 45 minutes or so and was narrated by a member of the Expedition Staff from Italy. There weren’t many members of the wildlife kingdom to point out so she spent most of the time bemoaning humankind’s lack of care for the environment. I’m as much of a tree hugger as the next guy but, really, enough is enough. I did spot a fair number of waterfowl on our trip. There were a couple of abandoned ships rotting away whose salvage is uneconomic. We also had good views of the landscape and, toward the end, passed by downtown Port Stanley.

Port Stanley, as of the Queen’s Jubilee in 2022, has been officially declared a city, population 4,500 or so, which accounts for 80% of the total population of the Falkland Islands. I’d say it deserves the title. It’s not a town anymore. There’s a fair amount of industry, mostly associated with fishing, I’d guess. You have to be careful crossing streets for fear of being run over by a right-hand drive Land Rover.

And there’s no doubt about it. The vast majority of Port Stanley-ites are loyal Brits through and through. The go-to restaurant dish is fish and chips. The accents are all British. Nary a Spanish accent to be heard anywhere. The local museum presents the 1982 war as an incursion turned back by the Queen’s own.

Our next outing was a bus ride to Scenic Gypsy Cove, maybe 20 minutes out of town. Scenic it is and also home to more Magellanic penguins, cute little buggers that they are. The lady who guided our bus trip proudly displayed a certificate she earned by swimming in the ocean at Gypsy Cove last winter (you have to get your head wet). It’s more of an accomplishment than just getting cold. Gypsy Cove was not declared land mine free until 2020, the last part of the Falklands to be cleared.

The man who led us up the hill to see the penguins told us of being the Sargent-Major of the local defense force at the time of the invasion, some 34 lads in all. He was detained on West Falkland Island under house arrest. He pointed out the distant hills where some of the important battles were fought. The initial invasion occurred not far from Gypsy Cove.

Gipsy Cove is near the Port Stanley airport. The government runs the service. If you want to go somewhere in the Falklands, you call up that morning and state your desires. They devise a route that accommodates all comers that day. Tomorrow the route will be different.

The Gypsy Cove tour dropped us off downtown and, at 1 PM, ready for lunch. Not far along we found the Groovy restaurant featuring, of course, fish and chips. We were seated with shipmates who come from Minnesota. We all ordered the fish and chips and, after a considerable wait, consumed with gusto. Two ships are in port today, ours and a Norwegian Cruise Line boat of considerably greater size. Every restaurant and tee-shirt shop in town was mobbed.

Because we’d packed in carryon luggage coming down, we were lacking in space for the expedition jackets that we’ve been given to take home. So we found a gift shop with a suitable bag which, for a considerable number of Falkland Pound Sterlings, solved that problem.

We visited the local museum, giving us a good overview of life in the Falklands. I found most interesting the displays that gave us the story of individual characters who came here, married, raised a family and worked in fishing or other maritime pursuits. The war was given considerable coverage, of course.

Then, a problem. The zipper on our new bag was stuck. We went to the store and asked for a return and replacement. The nice lady demonstrated that the zipper could be freed and made to work just fine, but we asked for and were given a different bag, one costing 5 FILB (or whatever they call their currency) less. The difference was given to us in a handful of coins of unknown value.

What to do? Go for ice cream, of course. I held out my fistful of coins and asked the lady, “Is this enough for two dishes?” She took all but three coins. “I want chocolate syrup on mine,” demanded Judy. The lady took the three remaining coins and said, “Close enough.”

The good news is that the ice cream didn’t spoil our appetite for dinner one little bit.

The good ship Octanis is making 15 knots but we’re taking an indirect route that skirts a storm to our northwest. We’re scheduled to reach Port Stanley, Falkland Islands, tomorrow morning. The seas yesterday (Feb. 12) were relatively calm with light rain but today the swell is bit more energetic under mostly sunny skies. So far, everything is copacetic, stomach-wise.

Birds, whales and icebergs are pretty scarce so far except for yesterday morning when, just after departing South Georgia, we detoured slightly to pass by the Shag Rocks, six rock outcroppings that are part of the South Georgia Ridge.

You may recall that once upon a time Argentina and Antarctica were one big happy continent. When plate tectonics did their thing, the two separated. The Antarctic Peninsula and Tierra del Fuego seem to be reaching toward each other. But in fact there is a ridge that runs between the two in a sweeping arc to the east that is the remnant of that split. The South Georgia Ridge and Shag Rocks are part of that ridge.

The Shag Rocks area is known to be frequented by whales and birds of all sorts. Our ship maintained a special lookout for whales to be sure our ship didn’t run into one. We saw more blue whales and I identified, appropriately enough, a South Georgia Shag.

One bird that fascinates me is the Wilson’s Storm Petrel, a small, mostly black bird with white markings that breeds in the Antarctic region, particularly the South Shetlands and South Georgia islands. Mom and Dad tend one chick for about 60 days and after that, it’s into the air for the rest of the year. The birds fly north for the northern summer and turn around to return to Antarctica when things get cold up north, never touching down on land until its time to nest again. The original snowbird, just like we are. There quite prevalent in the North Atlantic but we rarely see them because they like to stay off shore except in the case of a strong wind.

While at sea we have lectures given by the expedition teams. One especially interesting talk was given by Judith Scott. She is very clear to say that she’s not a marine biologist but has had a life-long interest in whales. She’s spent time around the world studying them and working as a whale watch guide in places such as Iceland and Gloucester , Massachusetts. I’ve included two slides from her presentation that give an indication of how big blue whales really are.

Judy has put together a video about blue whales that includes commentary from Judith: Here’s the link:

https://judyrick.zenfolio.com/p1039409213/hd9eb0644#hd9eb0644

Another presenter, Scott Croxson, spoke on the subject of winds, ocean currents and El Niño. On the subject of global warming and climate change, he said he no longer covers that subject in his talks. “Everyone has an opinion these days and nothing I say is going to change anyone’s mind.” I included the one chart on this subject he did present.

This morning’s talk (Feb 13) was on the history of the Falkland Islands/Malvinas. Bottom line: France, Spain and Great Britain have argued over sovereignty of the islands for going on 300 years. When Argentina was granted its independence from Spain on July 9, 1816, they too claimed ownership. Things came to warfare in June of 1982 when Argentinian forces invaded the Malvinas (as they call the Falklands). The war lasted about two weeks and ended with the surrender by Argentina.

Interestingly, the British lost the HMS Antelope, which sank during the war. My father, Phil Rick, served on the USS Antelope during World War II. It had been hit by a Japanese submarine torpedo before Dad got there. He spent the war being towed from one spot to another, waiting for repairs that never happened.

The outcome of the war was status quo: virtually everyone on the Falklands are diehard Brits. Margaret Thatcher, trailing in the polls, won reelection as British prime minister. The military junta in Argentina was deposed. Today, there are signs in Ushuaia saying “Malvinas son Argentinian” and politicians run on a platform that calls for return of the Malvinas through diplomacy.

So not much more to report, and not very many pictures, but I’ll pick up the pace when we hit Port Stanley tomorrow.

Last night’s adventure turned out to be even more of an adventure than we realized living through it. This morning, the Octanis crew gave a complete briefing. First up: our captain. He summarized his thoughts with two words: grateful and proud. He was grateful that everyone was successfully brought back from Grytviken. He was proud for the professionalism exhibited by the crew, from zodiac and  SOB operators, the expedition team and the kitchen staff who continued meal service until almost midnight. And he was proud by the positive, nonjudgmental attitude exhibited by all 194 passengers involved in the landing.

He gave us some extra facts:

• At 6 PM and after, when much of the extraction took place, wind speed was a constant 80 to 85 knots with gusts to 90 knots. Just so you know, 90 knots is 103.57 miles per hour. That’s almost as fast as they drive on I75 in Florida!
• The forecast at the time passengers were taken to shore was for winds of 8 knots. Katabatic winds are impossible to predict. Someone said it’s unusual for katabatic winds to persist as long as they did.
• Using zodiacs to transfer people to the SOBs had never been tried before.
• Viking headquarters has agreed to make a substantial contribution to the South Georgia Heritage Trust in recognition of the aid they gave to us while we waited to be extracted.

The entire crew was called up on stage for recognition and passenger comments were solicited. All comments were positive, several saying that they had complete confidence in the Viking staff to do what was in the interest of guest safety. No grumbling at all. The session was a great way for Viking to be open and to acknowledge what happened without making excuses or downplaying the situation.

During the day today we visited three different venues at the northwest extremity of South Georgia. In every case the wind conditions did not permit deploying any zodiac or SOB operations. So we viewed the scenery from a comfortable distance.

The real bonus for today was sighting of blue whales, including a mother and her calf. Blue whales are the largest animal to ever populate the earth. They were hunted almost to extinction but have made a comeback. Several of the naturalists on board had never seen an Antarctic blue whale.

Birds and seals were attracted to the whales’ activity. Maybe they stir up the food chain. You can get an appreciation of the size of blue whales in comparison.

And of course there were birds. So today’s pictures are all birds and whales. Except for an iceberg or two; I’m hooked on icebergs!

By the end of the day we’d set sail for the Falklands. It’ll take us two sea days. Here’s hoping for smooth sailing!

Ever hear of katabatic winds? Me neither until today when one almost left us stranded at an abandoned whale oil factory at Grytviken, South Georgia. Our rescue was one of the finest piece of seamanship I hope I never have to rely on again.

Katabatic winds are notorious here in the Antarctic region. At Grytviken, as has been the case most places we’ve visited, the area is surrounded by one or more glaciers. When the ice and snow at the top of the glacier melts, the resulting air is heavier than the ambient air. Gravity does its thing and, woooosh, down the slope it goes, reaching speeds, in our case, of 70 knots or more. Along with the strong wind comes ice pellets and raindrops.

Our first stop this morning was the Leith whaling station in Stromness Bay. It operated from 1902 until 1986. It, like the other stations, processed whale oil for export around the world. Countless thousands of whales were killed, leading to near extinction. Operations ceased due to lack of whales.

Our plan had been to enter the bay so we could view the extensive operating facilities. Leith was the largest station of its type in South Georgia. It is closed to the public because the facilities are asbestos laden and prone to fall down in a strong wind.

It was here we had our first taste (today, anyway) of katabatic winds. We nosed in and our captain decided the bay was too narrow and the winds too strong to risk a length photo op. So away we went to our next station, Grytviken.

Grytviken has been restored to the point where cruise boat sailors like us can come ashore. Stringent anti-viral procedures are required. Our departures were by zodiac and were delayed for an hour or so due to, you guessed it, high winds with gusts reaching 70 knots. But finally we were on our way for a 15 minute zodiac ride to shore.

The factory facilities are extensive. Whale oil production was a major business. It operated from 1904 through 1965. It is said that the largest ever blue whale was killed here. The blue whale is the largest mammal on earth.

Grytviken is also home to a large number of fur seal pups. We had to watch where we went. Some of the seals wanted attention. Others wanted to show us how ferocious they could be. A few stray king penguins also strutted around.

Grytviken is also the burial place for the famous Antarctic explorer, Ernest Shackleton. Shackleton’s original expedition to cross Antarctica spent a month in Grytviken in 1914 before heading for Antarctica. His ship, the Endurance, was trapped in ice. Shackleton took part of his team in a lifeboat back to South Georgia. Once there, he and his crew climbed up and over the island’s glaciers to the east side and, from Grytviken, launched a rescue party for the remaining crew members. The rescue was successful. Taking more than a year, all crew members survived.

On yet another expedition in 1922, Shackleton’s team reached Grytviken where, on New Years Day, he suffered a heart attack and died. His widow specified that he be buried at Grytviken.

Leith and Grytviken also played a role in the Falkland/Malvinas War of 1987. The day after Argentina invaded the Falklands, a contingent of Argentinian scrap metal workers arrived at Leith, some of whom were Argentinian marines in disguise. They raised the Argentinian flag. A small contingent of British Royal Marines at Grytviken fought a brief battle, shooting down an Argentinian helicopter and damaging an Argentinian destroyer, before surrendering.

Today, King Edward Cove is shared by Grytviken, the former whaling station, and King Edward Point, a permanent British Antarctic Survey Research station. KEP, as it’s called, is also the capital of the British Overseas Territory of South Georgia and the South Sándwich Islands. It has the distinction of being the smallest capital, by population, in the world.

So there we were at Grytviken. Despite the delays we arrived at 4:15 PM and were told to report to the landing site by 5:15. But the winds blew and they blew and they blew. The sky was mostly clear but the snow- and sleet-laden wind made walking into the wind painful. There was a perfect rainbow almost all day formed by the flow off the glacier. And no zodiacs left to take passengers home.

Finally, at perhaps 6 PM, three zodiacs ventured and successfully reached the Octanis. But the zodiacs did not return for more passengers.

The zodiacs did eventually return, accompanied this time by the two Special Operations Boats (SOBs). These military-grade transport vessels are designed for all weather operation. So, the procedure became to use the zodiacs to transport passengers to the SOBs, about 100 yards off shore. The passengers transferred to the SOBs, which then returned to the Octanis.

The Octanis is specially designed to accept the SOBs via a conveyer belt arrangement, much like a boat trailer, located in the stern of the mother ship. The pilot of the SOB somehow lined up with the ramp despite the strong winds and turbulent swells. Once captured, the SOB was pulled into the stern of the ship where we were able to disembark safely.

Incidentally, our ship has never dropped an anchor during our stops. Instead, the ship’s side thrusters and propellers are linked to the GPS and maintain the ship in a constant orientation. I happened to talk to the captain today and he verified this fact. “I could have dropped anchor today, and I wouldn’t worry about the anchor dragging, but if we needed to move quickly we don’t have to pull the anchor.”

We got back around 8 PM. As I type at 10:30 PM, we just received word that all passengers were safely back on board.

In retrospect, it was probably an error for the lull in wind speed this afternoon to justify landing passengers at Grytviken. It left us vulnerable to the fate of the winds. But the unique capabilities of the Octanis resulted in a safe outcome.

Time for bed.

Judy has put together another video, covering our trip at South Orkney Islands on our way from Antarctica to South Georgia Islands. Here’s the link:

https://judyrick.zenfolio.com/p1039409213/hd93e8154#hd93e8154