The biggest wingspan of them all...

Prion Isle is in the Bay of Isles at the top of South Georgia, as shown on the Orion's noticeboard.

Prion Island is in the Bay of Isles in the very north of South Georgia. We're here for the wandering albatross, despite the island being named by American naturalist Robert Cushman Murphy in 1912-13 after another bird.

King penguins fishing off Prion Island.

The Orion had to get special permission to visit Prion, a Specially Protected Area in a specific timeslot, and we had to limit the number of visitors at any one time.

The beach at Prion Island, with one group climbing the boardwalk, in the gloom. Look carefully and you can see a wandering albatross just at the top of the walk.

After disembarking the zodiacs, we climb up a grass tussocked hill to see the albatross. The South Georgia government built a boardwalk in 2008 to minimise the damage caused by ourselves as we trundle up the hill. It makes the walk easier too, except when fur seals get in the way. They like the boardwalk too!

The boardwalk climbs up to wandering albatross nesting areas.

There are dozens of wandering albatross swirling around in the air currents. We are quite close to them. Just as well there was a breeze, because the birds will sit around and do nothing if there is none. Wandering albatross are huge birds, with, at 3.5m, the biggest wingspan of any on the planet. Second biggest is the Andean Condor, so Steve Egan tells us.

Every soaring wandering albatross is a sight to see.

Leaden skies behind a pair of Wandering Albatrosses.

Highlighting the massive wingspan of the Wandering Albatross.

We also see half a dozen or so albatross mothers on their nests. The chicks will be hatched by now - one passenger claimed to have seen one, but we didn't.

A wandering albatross mum tending her chick in her tussock grass nest.

Prion Island had another bonus to offer us. It is one of the few places in South Georgia never to have been infested with rats bought here either deliberately or accidentally by sealers and whalers. The rats completely exterminated the South Georgia Pipit, but Prion Island was sufficiently isolated and never suffered the rat invasion. Pipits remain here, and nowhere else in the world, and we saw two or three of them buzzing around the tussock grass.

We all loved to see the rare and endemic South Georgia Pipit.

Hard to photograph this guy, but the SG pipit has become a cause celebre amongst Orion passengers.

South Georgia has spent millions on getting rid of those introduced rats. The people from Grytviken gave us a presentation on the program involving multiple helicopters (NZ pilots) and tonnes of rat poison. It was able to be done in stages successfully, because the island is conveniently divided into segments where glaciers act as rat proof fences. The program looks to be successful so far - no rats have been located recently, and a few pipits have been seen outside Prion Island.

We couldn't get down the boardwalk until the seals got off. The seals have absolute right of way.

Into the wildlife...

South Georgia lies on the parabolic rim of the Scotia Sea. It is an island, but don't call it that - Tom Ritchie protests those that add the "island" word to the end of the name, because it is a broken off piece of continental land, being pushed away from Tierra del Fuego (from whence it came?) by plate tectonic movements.

The route from South Orkney to South Georgia.

South Georgia is an Overseas Territory of Great Britain. It was named by James Cook after King George III. It's administered from the Falklands, and there is no real permanent population here, but there are always a "dozen or so officials" in residence, at Grytviken which we will visit later. Argentina has territorial claims on South Georgia, but the British dealt with those during the Falklands War.

Iceberg near Cooper Island shows evidence of some ancient geological incident.

After moving our clocks forward one hour, our first landfall on South Georgia was at the south eastern corner, at the end of Drygalski Fjord, in a place called Cooper Bay (anmes after Cook's first lieutenant on HMS Resolution). The weather was so-so - it was windy and the bay was rough - but it was important to do the excursion offered because possibly the only sighting of macaroni penguins would be here.

Those pesky icebergs hiding away in inlets near Cooper Bay.

Small glacier amid green tussocks. We weren't allowed to land here for biosecurity reasons.

Coming into Cooper Bay we stopped for a pod of hump-back whales, and, much more exciting, glimpses of a giant blue whale and calf. We had an excellent close-up view of the blues from the ship's deck 4 lounge area, but we were not quick enough to get photos. Marieke had previously explained how to identify the various types of whales by their blow, so we were pleased to see the strong columnar type blow from this blue whale. The expedition staff and even the captain were beside themselves with excitement at the sight of a blue whale - it is a rare privilege indeed!

Humpback whale and calf in Cooper Bay, but missed the blue whale with the camera!

Many species of birds swirled around the stern of the Orion as we cruised into Cooper Bay. Sadly, we are not as competent as Doug Gould at identifying them, so no responsibility is taken for the names we have given them in the photos! Many are just best guesses.

Southern Giant Petrel.

Putting the anchor down so we can have a zodiac outing.

The scout party gets the first look at all the good stuff.

We chose a zodiac tour over an uphill hike to a rookery. Our zodiac captain, Steve Egan, showed he was an excellent pilot as he held the boat as steady as possible in rough rocky inlets. It was another challenging photographic exercise, because the bobbing around made it impossible to point the camera with accuracy. The only way to get shots is to set the camera to rapid-fire, point it in the right direction, and hold the button down. This approach uses up a lot of memory card space quickly!

An uphill hike through the tussocks to the macaroni penguin rookery.

Kelp, beach and macaroni penguins in Cooper Bay.

Checking out the macaronis heading up to their cliff-top rookery.

But the wildlife was prolific and extraordinary. It is all around you, everywhere! We are beginning to appreciate what the world's most productive waters actually means. The macaroni penguins were a special treat, with their flamboyant headgear. This particular species is common world-wide, but is rare in Antarctica. As penguins are wont, they stood around for us to take their picture, but the wobbly zodiac made that very hit and miss. Macaronis eat krill, and they lay two eggs a year, one much bigger than the other, and only the bigger survives. We also saw chinstrap penguins here.

The penguin highway to the rookery is paved in this case.

Dignified profile of a young fur seal.

Yankee Doodle stuck a feather in his cap and called it macaroni!

The Kelp Gull is common around the world, but is the only gull seen in Antarctica, and it stays here all winter.

Antarctic shag dries his wings.

Up on his flippers having a good look around.

Macaroni penguin on his South Georgia rock.

Chinstraps also call South Georgia home. It seems every Antarctic species has a presence here.

Scavenger of the seas, the Southern Giant Petrel.

Fur seals were here in abundance, and the juveniles were a delight. They frolic in the little rocky inlets and seem to be putting on a show for us, but Doug Gould saud that they are just having fun and burning off excess energy. There was lots of kelp about, colourful too and looking like giant tagliatelli pasta.

Kelp abounds in the water and on the wet rocks in Cooper Bay.

Chinstrap having a breather from his fishing expedition.

Macaronis on the beach, but the fur seal is warning us off.

They have to breathe air, but fur seals are most at home in the water.

Zodiac returning to the Orion after an expedition.

Our (all brand new) external clothing is performing admirably. We have North Face water and wind-proof overpants (from Paddy Pallin, Sydney) which tighten with velcro over our Bogs boots (from Swaynes Nursery, Dural). Our uppers are protected with an inner shell and orange-coloured expedition jacket with hood provided to all passengers by National Geographic / Lindblad. These not only make us easily identifiable at a distance, but give excellent protection against all elements. The jackets have an Imperial Trans-Antarctic Expedition Centenary patch featuring an embroidered image of Sir Ernest Shackleton.

Passenger modelling the Centenary Shackleton Expedition patch, attempting the impossible with an iPad.

How's that for a panorama?

Passengers enjoying a sunset party on the top deck.

Unplanned visit to the South Orkneys...

The Orion was not scheduled to visit the South Orkney Islands, they are not even mentioned in our reference book on Antarctic cruising, but they decided to call in there after we escaped Antarctica early to avoid an oncoming storm. The passage there was, as usual, strewn with icebergs big and small, and the ship was pursued by elusive sea birds, so difficult to photograph as they soar around. At least the icebergs stand still and pose for you!

From the Antarctic Pensinsula to Coronation Island in the South Orkney Islands.

The South Orkneys are another British Protectorate, basically uninhabited, and are part of what is called the Scotia Arc which is a vaguely semi-circular chain of islands including the South Shetlands and the South Sandwich Islands, and joins the Antarctic Peninsula to Tierra del Fuego. The relationship between all these locations is manifestly obvious by looking at the map!

As we pulled up in a bay on the south west of Coronation Island, the biggest South Orkney, the masses of penguins and their stench was immediately evident. We quickly closed our cabin door! But we could easily see hundreds of penguins porpoising towards land, or away from it, according to their own timetables. The penguins jump from the water to breathe, and then swim rapidly towards their destination underwater.

Deeply stained and foul smelling, the chinstrap colony on Coronation Island.

A perilous climb up the slopes for these chinstrap penguins.

Chinstrap penguins porposing to breathe as they swim home.

There were to be no landings on the South Orkneys, but we did enjoy a fabulous zodiac cruise after 8:00pm in failing light. Frankly, we did not see anywhere we could have reasonably landed! Just rocks and snow coming down to the very choppy sea. The wind was strong and the conditions rough. Our zodiac's skipper Marieke Egan (a Dutch lass who lives with her husband Steve in Broome) had a hard time of it, trying to control the zodiac, minimise the amount of spray and wash we suffered, hold it steady up against the rocks for bird and seal watching and for photography.

The wildlife was prolific. We could now see that the penguins here are the chinstrap variety. Apparently, the Scotia Loop is their main haunt. Whole hillsides were covered in the blighters. They clamber up the rocks and go a long way inland. Naturally, krill is their main diet. We also saw dozens of fur seals, presumably the Antarctic type. These guys are characterised by their small ears (instead of no ears) and apparently have sharp eyesight. The juvenile males we saw appeared to be putting on a testosterone-fuelled display for us, hopping in and out of the water, flapping their flippers etc.

Fur seals were totally unimpressed with our visit.

Juvenile fur seals frolicking, would have been born in November or December.

Portrait of a chinstrap penguin.

Is that a gentoo penguin out of place in this colony of chinstraps?

While the wildlife was amazing, photographically, it was a disappointment. The light was very poor, the zodiacs were bobbing about like corks, and it was impossible to hold the camera still or use fast shutter speeds, even at ISO6400. Our 400mm Canon lens was quite unmanageable in these conditions. These were the most difficult photography conditions we have encountered so far. Our photos are both blurred and noisy, but still worth a look.

Guess what? We found two British scientists on this bleak, uninhabited desolate island! They eagerly came down to see us unexpected visitors. They are researching wildlife - what else would you be doing here in the middle of this intense, smelly and noisy population? They have been here alone for 6 weeks. The couple were asked what they needed, and they asked for wine - the Orion donated a dozen. Delivering it was challenging.

Two British reseachers unexpectedly found camped in the chinstrap colony.

---

We're just that little bit further north now, and the night time is now fully dark after 10:00pm. It's amazing what a difference a little distance makes. As we steamed away from the South Orkneys in the dark, a visit to the bridge revealed the challenges of navigating at night in icebergy waters. Extraordinary care and discipline is evident. Captain Martin Graser was there (does he ever rest?) with a steady stream of calm, considered instructions and advice to his officers. He's already explained that ice navigation in the dark is particularly difficult, and so the troublesome times are now, after mid-summer. Two spotlights illuminate the impenetrable gloom. One officer constantly views the intersection of the two beams through powerful binoculars.

With South Georgia our next destination (some sea distance away), we become subject to a new and even stricter biosecurity regime. All of us are required to undergo training, given as a splendidly produced video, and to have all our external clothing and apparatus thoroughly inspected and cleaned again. Camera bags are vacuumed inside and out. Coats and pants are gone over with particular emphasis on velcro and pockets. Boots and tripod legs are dipped and scrubbed. And then we individually sign off a form, for advance transmission to the South Georgia authorities, that we have done all this.

Boots are dipped in pink stuff and scrubbed to meet South Georgia's strict requirements.

Erin checks everyone's external clothing thoroughly.

Internet access via satellite is available for a fee abord the Orion, but the bandwidth is quite limited, transmission rates are slow, and service unreliable. Having had past experience with satellite subscriptions, we didn't bother. All these blog posts are written in real time but will be uploaded later, probably back in Australia. We have way too many photos in our blog!

But we are still well connected to the rest of the world, in a one-way fashion at least. Our cabin has a TV which not only has channels for the "view from the bridge" and the chart-plotter screen, but receives a number of news feeds like Sky, BBC, CNBC as well as some movie and entertainment channels. Daily, we also get email transmitted summaries of newspapers from USA and Australia. Daily Orion expedition reports get sent out to the email addresses we nominated previously, and we can see them posted on the notice board.

Every day, extracts from newspapers kept us in touch with the world.

The passage over the Scotia Sea to South Georgia was quite rough, with big swells buffeting us. Pronounced whitecaps were testament to strong winds. We didn't get such roughness when going south on the Drake Passage, but this route, further east and a week later has given us a better feel for the conditions endured by Shackleton and his small crew in the James Caird exactly 100 years ago. We're following much the same route too. And, to entertain us and inform us, we have been watching in the lounge and in our cabins the expedition to re-create Shackleton's epic journey in one of the Endurance's wooden life boats, led by Tim Jarvis and produced by PBS.

Looking for icebergs in the dark!

This Southern Giant Petrel, a vulnerable species, conveniently soared by our cabin door.

The bow area awash as the Orion plunges into a swell in the Scotia Sea.