02 February, 2016

Penguins and ice...


From Port Lockroy, the Orion headed south-west down the Gerlache Strait. Our weather was still foggy, but (so said our Expedition Leader, Shaun) conditions were good for a zodiac passage through Hidden Passage, an unmapped channel somehow known to expedition staff. Temperatures around 0C, no wind, no precipitation! Plans were quickly changed, and the wind did hold off, but even before we started, heavy wet snow started to fall.
Having left Port Lockroy, we headed south into the spectacular and sometimes narrow Lemaire Channel.


The fog and snow made for a mystical experience, enhanced by magical blue ice, crabeater seals and (!) a hot chocolate laden zodiac awaiting us before we got back to the Orion.
On the way to Hidden Passage in a heavy snowfall.

The Orion could not follow us through Hidden Passage, but she steamed around and met us on the other side.

Crabeater seals have a delightful tan colour. Their name is a misnomer - they eat krill, which in German is "krabbe".

To enter Hidden Passage, the zodiacs picked their way through the ice floes in single file, a most delightful experience.

Sometimes the single file discipline came undone.

Striated ice walls at the bottom of countless glaciers.

Yet another spectacular ice wall. Notice the "ground" under the ice.

The passage got very narrow, but by now it was impossible to keep the lens dry.

The welcome sight of a floating hot-chocolate kiosk!

Ice's deep blue colour is evident even in atrocious lighting conditions.

Returning to the Orion - is that a sign of improving weather?


That distraction put behind us, the Orion poked its way up Lemaire Passage, regarded as the prettiest on the Antarctic Peninsula. In the fog, we couldn't see the tops of the cliffs and mountains, but what we did see was mighty spectacular, including a humpback whale which brought the Orion to a stop as we all leaned over the railing for a better look.
Humpback whale enthralling expeditioners in Lemaire Channel.


We nosed into Girard Bay. The Captain, who was on the bridge at the time, said this would be the southernmost limit of our travels, that to go any further, we would just see more of the same. He has a plan to skip round to the eastern side of the Peninsula, where he was hoping for sunshine.
Spectacular sheer rock wall in Lemaire Channel. So close, yet the water is 400m deep here.


Heading northwards again, we stopped off at Petermann Island (named after German geographer August Petermann). Tom Ritchie (a naturalist who's been with Lindblad for 40 years and invited us to dinner at his table one evening) had explained the particular historical significance of this region. The three earliest explorations of the Gerlache Strait and the Antarctic Peninsula were Belgian (1899, led by Adrien de Gerlache, with none less than Roald Amundsen on his crew), Swedish (1902, led by Otto Nordenskjold, which suffered a Shackleton-like enforced winter 10 years before Sir Ernest was here) and French (1903, led by Charcot, who produced the best charts available, and a genuine scientist and teacher). Charcot wintered in Circumcision Bay on Petermann Island, which we visited by zodiac, still snowing heavily!
Ploughing through field of ice floes in low visibility, as seen from our cabin.

Captain Martin at the helm in the ice-field, with his better half Dorothee at his side.

The end of the road in Girard Bay, as far south as we are going to go.


Petermann was another soggy zodiac visit, although wet snow is still better than rain. Here, we saw Adelie penguins for the first time. There mere not many Adelie adults here, but mostly relatively advanced chicks which (naturalist Doug Gould explained) were able to protect themselves by huddling together, creching he called the behaviour. We did see a skua claim a gentoo chick, much to the distress of many witnesses, and another one effectively stripping a carcase. Some particularly repulsive elephant seals were camped in close quarters near a refuge hut, the smell enough to turn your stomach!
Gentoo penguin taking a break.

An adelie penguin chick eyes us off on Petermann Island.

A gentoo parent guards her chick with care.

Adelie chicks seem to be very demanding of their mothers.

Elephant seals, noisy, smelly and unfriendly.

1955 Argentinian refuge hut on Petermann Island.

Skua looking for morsels in a dead penguin skin.

After use, zodiacs are hoisted to their position on the upper deck.

01 February, 2016

Britain's Most Remote Base?


British station Port Lockroy is in a protected lagoon of tiny Wiencke Island, just off Anvers Island. It's only a mealtime's cruise from Neko Harbour! The station was established during WW2 as Operation Tabarin to monitor any feared German operations in the region, but it's now a museum bearing a Post Office and souvenir shop which pays its operating costs. From what they said, they sometimes get one or two ships a day, and it is the most visited place in Antarctica.
The things you see. Maybe a Dutch training ship in the Gerlache Strait enjoying the little sunshine on this wet and windy day.


Looking at the map, there are numerous bases in the immediate vicinity of Port Lockroy, belonging to various countries, the USA, Chile, Argentina, Ukraine...
Port Lockroy is just off the Gerlache Strait.


The location is delightful, but the weather was foul, with varying heavy rain (not even snow!) and gale force winds which changed direction entirely forcing the Orion to re-anchor. The zodiac ride to (and from) the Port was memorable because of shallow waters, rough seas and us passengers were drenched with splash and spray. We had to clamber over slippery rocks to get onto the land. Zodiac visits to Goudier Island and somewhere else (penguin rookeries and whalebones) were abandoned due to the lousy conditions. Even the penguin mums guarding their chicks from snowy sheathbills (white with a pinkish discolouration around their face, making them look quite ugly) looked miserable, with their eyes firmly closed and their backs to the wind.
Zodiac pilots look for the smoothest passage to their destination.

Zodiac skippers need to be well rugged up.

On board a zodiac heading to Port Lockroy, smiling despite awful weather.

Yacht anchored at Port Lockroy probably belongs to the staff here.

Fairly treacherous arrival at Lockroy. It's not your eyes - the lens is covered in water!


The museum was quite fascinating, being no more than a restoration of the old intelligence station to its more or less original condition, complete with appropriately dated artifacts. Life must have been hard here! And the PO + store was doing a roaring trade, with everyone, including ourselves, buying something and sending postcards with Antarctic stamps and franking. The mail goes out on cruise ships such as ours anyway. We were told the cards would not arrive until March - they have to get to the UK first.
British outpost Fort Lockroy, once for military intelligence, now a post office and souvenir shop.

Restored kitchen in the WW2 British intelligence gathering station.

The PO is busy at Port Lockroy.


The 4 staff at Fort Lockroy were invited to dine with us, a break they really enjoyed from their normal fairly deprived existence. They also enjoyed hot showers on the Orion. There's no water at Lockroy, so it's severely rationed. They also took a supply of fresh vegetables back with them.

Onto the great white continent...


Our first zodiac experience on this expedition was to a gravelly beach in Neko Harbour on the actual Antarctic Peninsula. For many of us, this was our official arrival on the 7th continent. The name "Neko" is from a factory whaling ship operating here in the 1910's & 20's. The weather for our visit was mixed. We had some rain (so much worse than snow!) and a strong wind cropped up to blow ice floes in on the beach and make our zodiac departures "quite interesting".
Clare on board Pegasus.


Neko's claim to fame is smelly and noisy gentoo penguin rookeries which host thousands of the cute little fellows and their new chicks. Beforehand, we are given strict instructions on how to treat the penguins, which are basically, stay a good distance unless the come to you (which they do, often), give them right of way, and don't walk on the penguin highways which are the obvious beaten tracks that the gentoos like to use. Gentoos are the third biggest penguin after the emperor and king varieties.
Gentoos enjoying themselves at the beach.

Gentoo penguin, with characteristic red beak.

Gentoo on the penguin highway. We were instructed to give way to all penguins.

Somehow, the penguins seem to know where they are going.


A number of skuas circle the rookeries and land frequently, looking for unprotected chicks. The adult penguins despatch them easily, but an isolated chick would be easy game.
Penguin colony threatened by a skua looking for unguarded chicks.

Penguin parents keep their young very close.

Skuas are the scourge of young penguins.

The people are more interested in the penguins than vice versa.

A gentoo penguin rules over his domain.

Gentoo mums and chicks.

Selfie?

On the penguin highway.


From the beach, it's possible to walk up a steep hill to a rocky point which overlooks a glacier. The Lindblad staff mark the safe track for us with red and yellow flags, small equivalents of lifesaving flags on Australian beaches. It's a pleasant enough walk, and helps wear off breakfast, but a lot of older (and some younger) passengers make heavy work of it. Lindblad staff and Orion crew are fantastic in the amount of care and personal assistance they offer frail expeditioners.
Clambering up the hill to a good overlook above Neko Harbour.

The 100m climb is hard going in slushy snow.

Just another little iceberg.


These conditions are hard on cameras and batteries. Everyone has their own favourite way of keeping equipment dry and lenses clean. They are variously successful. Plastic bags are popular but problematic. It's raining and spraying but not heavily, so using a hand towel seems to be workable. Lens cleaners get soaking wet quickly, and we don't have a great solution here. Batteries are best if kept warm. Professionals have a separate battery back they carry inside their coat. Mere mortals like us keep spare batteries in coat pockets.
A view of the glacier from the hard rock of the Antarctic continent!

Many calves from the glacier are getting ready.

That irresistable deep blue colour of Antarctic ice.

After the climb at Neko Harbour.

Glacier on the verge of many calvings.


Biosecurity concerns are paramount for ventures to the shore. Everyone's boots and outer clothing were inspected and if necessary cleaned the day before, and we signed off on protocol. Before getting into the zodiac, we dip our boots into some "pink solution" (we think it is the duPont virucidal disinfectant Virkon S), and when we get back, we brush the boots before using the pink brew again. Tripod feet get the same treatment. And for our security, to make sure no-one gets left behind, there's a tag board when you mark yourself off and back on the Orion. We take off our life-jackets and leave them near the shore in barrels, so making sure all life jackets have been removed is an extra layer of security. Getting on and off the zodiacs is a ritual of great care.
Negotiating the ice floes at the beach.

A transient glimpse of blue sky on a very wet day!