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:
We arrived at Gold Harbor at 2 PM today after what our captain said was a night of 6 to 8 meter swells. That’s 20 to 26 feet. And that’s a lot. Judy and I slept through it OK but walking the decks was a challenge.
Our cabin is designed with a floor to ceiling picture window. The top half can be lowered so we have an unobstructed view of the scenery. The downside is that as the ship rolls from side to side there is a rather loud creaking and banging sound coming from the windows at random intervals. The windows were complaining loudly and in new strange ways in last night’s seas. So much for worrying about the Drake Passage. The run from Antarctica to South Georgia has proved to be worse. But thankfully, my patch is holding well and iron-gut Judy shrugs it off without chemical intervention.
I spent much of the day trying for photos of sea birds that seem to follow the ship, some of which you can see in today’s pictures. Many of the birds are small and move quickly so the picture taking can be hit-or-miss. I did get one of a king penguin swimming in the water. I also sighted what a naturalist said was a macaroni penguin swimming.
We were told that the macaroni penguin was named by members of the Macaroni Club in London. The penguin in question has a rather elaborate set of head feathers. Hence, “stuck a feather in his cap and called him macaroni.”
Our turn for a zodiac tour came at 6 PM. Weather conditions didn’t permit submarine nor kayaking and regulations didn’t permit shore landings. But what a sight. Literally thousands of penguins, mostly kings, lining the beach. Fur seals and elephant seals were intermixed. This area is a breeding ground for penguins and we did see some brown furry balls that are the young king penguins. It’s also the time when these penguins molt, taking on a new set of waterproof feathers for the coming winter. King penguins tend to mate for life and we could see obvious parings of king penguins.
The harbor also sports some nice glaciers. There’s also a nice collection of icebergs, something we didn’t see much of coming over from South Orkney. Our captain said that when he was here four years ago there were no icebergs here. The bergs we saw today are from larger icebergs that have broken up as large icebergs tend to do, especially when they hit warmer water of the convergence zone.
The sad thing is that the avian flu has reached South Georgia, and Gold Harbor in particular. There were dead penguins on the beach. It also turns out that avian flu kills seals and we saw a number of both dead fur and dead elephant seals on the beach. One was being pecked at by a scavenging southern great petrel. Before going on our zodiac trip we saw a flock of birds of several different types feeding on a fur seal carcass floating near the side of our ship.
The captain promised a smooth ride, unlike the previous night, so here’s hoping.
Last night they announced a bird watching opportunity from 6 AM to 7 AM, led by a member of the expedition crew who specializes in bird watching. Problem was that last night we moved clocks forward one hour so 6 AM felt like 5 AM. Three people showed up: a couple from Chicago and me, but no leader. Finally the front desk was called and they rousted the leader from bed. He forgot to move his watch. We watched for birds from the stern with the deck pitching and rolling. The rain stopped but the deck was wet and slippery.
In the course of an hour we saw two possible species of pitons although they were too small for me to have an ID. Somehow we made it inside across the pitching deck.
You may be wondering why I was out and about in such rough weather. I keep saying that today was worse than yesterday but today really was the worst. The secret to my success? The scopolamine patch that I applied around 5:30 AM. I’ve been fine all day. I’ve eaten three square meals, walked around the ship quite a bit with no problem. It’s a miracle drug, I’m convinced. Actually that three squares thing might be an issue diet wise. Maybe I should lay off the patch as a weight loss regime.
We’ve been traversing the open Southern Sea on our way from South Orkney to South Georgia. We won’t arrive there until 1 PM, at which time the zodiacs, SOBs and submarines will hopefully be launched.
The government of South Georgia has put in place stringent requirements for those going ashore. We had to go through a second thorough cleaning of all external clothing, backpacks, etc. We also had to attend a briefing on cleanliness protocols. Here’s the video if you’re interested. It is narrated by Sir David Attenborough. https://gov.gs/south-georgia-visitors-guide/
We had to sign a document attesting to the steps we have taken to protect the environment. Avian flu is of particular concern.
No lectures this evening. Instead, our captain is leading a “Bad Dad Jokes” contest. Sadly, our dinner reservations interfere.
Just a few bird fact slides and a map to share our current route.
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.
