Cruising Antarctica

No sooner had we arrived in the waters of Antarctica than things seemed to have improved and the sun shone on us. The three days ahead of us more than fulfilled my expectations in many ways. There were sights to be stored in the memory for life, for sure this is not a place to which I expect to return – though to do so would be a privilege: this is a very special place.

First, one is struck by the whiteness, which for most of our visit was complemented by the blues and turquoises of the sea and the underside of the many small icebergs floating alongside the ship. On some of those seals slept, enjoying the warm sun. We’re told this weather is exceptional: it seems the seals agree! One iceberg slipped by with a penguin standing calmly at one end while two large seals slept a few feet away, seemingly oblivious to a potential meal!

There were huge cliffs of ice, vast expanses of floating ice, and tiny slivers attracted to the side of the ship. Such amazing variety.

I remember writing a few years ago about the sudden consciousness I felt in New Zealand of the life under me – now I was aware of the same feeling relating to the ocean. Just what was going ion in those watery depths? There were indications of whales near the ship: where were the others from the group? And then there were penguins diving into the sea. Where did they go? And what of the little birds that appeared from nowhere? Where did they rest? Where would they feed? Every precaution had been taken to make sure that they didn’t land on the ship’s open decks and to arrange their removal if they did: so where could they rest? The ability of the creatures to exist in such conditions is genuinely awesome!

It’s hard to take in the extent of the White Continent. Thinking about the distance from Puerto Madryn to the Falklands and then from there to the Antarctic Archipelago, the Falklands mark approximately the hallway point and the point we reached then is not even within the Antarctic Circle. There’s total whiteness out there – with no water for relief. But such beauty in the whiteness- and such gloriously blue skies. I could have stayed longer.

I have since learned that we saw four different kinds of floating ice. There were icebergs (15m or more showing above the ocean), brash ice ( little floaty bits alongside us and very low), growlers (3ft or so above sea level and named for the noise they make catching the side of the vessel) and then berry bits which have broken off the main berg and are between 1 and 5 metres in height above the sea. We’ve seen them all.

But it’s the vastness that I find so compelling. And that extends below the ship as well as all around us at sea level. Just looking at icebergs and the colour of each as it meets the sea is an education in uniqueness!And the way each landmass meets the sea, too, is different. Some have shelves of ice, others are rocky outcrops; some populated by wildlife, others not. A few have signs of human habitation where an Antarctic Station is situated – buildings being visible with little indication of their purpose.

As we sailed past one station area, the comment was made that three British researchers lost their lives there in 1982 – No-one could tell me the names and there hasn’t been an opportunity to ‘google’ but I suspect one of those was the much loved son of a person with whom I was working at the time. I will check when the internet is more readily accessible.