"An Antarctic expedition is the worst way to have the best time of your life." Having just returned from Terra Australis Incognita I now fully understand why Apsley Cherry-Garrard described his journey as such.
This vast, lonely and frequently malevolent continent had been at the back of my mind for a very long time. I had already explored the other six continents easily enough but it seemed impossible to get to Antarctica. I didn't know where to begin to look for the information, if it existed at all.
With the help of the Internet, I heard of one company that organized expeditions to the Last Continent. Toronto based Marine Expeditions was going to make my dream a reality.
The preparation for the trip was like planning a wedding. I would be experiencing 3 very different climates just getting there and my gear had to be able to accommodate all 3.
My first stop was in Buenos Aires, Argentina where I met up with the troupe of photographers, naturalists and bird watchers who would accompany me down to "the Ice".
After a couple of days in the heat, we flew down to the most southerly city in the world, Ushuaia on the island of Tierra Del Fuego. Late in the evening, our Russian icebreaker Lyubov Orlova set sail down the Beagle Channel bound for Antarctica. I was truly on my way!
That night I woke up suddenly when the ship began rocking and pitching, instantly humbling us before the open Drake Sea.
This body of water is known for being the roughest sea in the world and has claimed many mariners' lives throughout history. Enduring thirty-degree lists in every direction and 20 foot waves that would cause the hull to shudder under the impact, I began to see why!
It took 2 days to cross the Drake Passage. Apprehension grew as we passed what is called the Antarctic Convergence. This wavering boundary has no visible distinctions but it marks, through a sudden drop in water temperature, the place where the warm waters to the north end and the Antarctic ecosystem begins.
A few hours after that, we began to see the signs that we were entering a different place, unlike anything we had ever laid eyes upon. Spending most of my time on the teetering top deck, I spotted Wandering albatross and Minke whales.
I also sighted, emerging from the haze, the first iceberg and exclaimed my discovery in "Titanic" fashion, "Iceberg, straight ahead!" More and more followed rocking to and fro in the endless sea. Within a couple of hours these white sentinels surrounded our ship. A little further south we were greeted by the Last Continent's most famous icons, penguins. Like tiny dolphins, hundreds of them leapt out of the water in waves right beside our ship. Awkward as they may seem ashore, these remarkable creatures are extremely agile in the water.
With all these introductions, the atmosphere aboard the Orlova became thick with excitement. Despite language barriers, everybody's smiles spoke the same international tongue.
Our first landing on Aitcho Island near the head of the Shetland Chain will forever be etched in my memory. We used inflatable boats called Zodiacs invented by Jacque Cousteau. One by one the Zodiacs were lowered into the water using a crane stationed near the ship's bow.
Decked out in layers of fleece covered in a waterproof suit and boots, I marched down the gangplank to my awaiting Zodiac. I felt like I was going on some kind of military exercise. In the middle of a snow squall, the boat took off through the surf negotiating a maze of ice chunks towards land. My waterproof shell proved invaluable here as the ocean spray drenched us thoroughly.
We skidded to a halt on the rocky beach where our expedition leader, Shane Evoy, grabbed the front of our Zodiac to steady us in the surf. In a thunderous voice he bellowed "Welcome to Antarctica." All around Shane, some 20,000 Gentoo and Chinstrap penguins squawked their welcome as well.
The whole scene was an assault on the senses: 360 degrees of penguins, elephant seals, icebergs, mountains and glaciers that literally spanned the horizon. You did not need to approach the penguins. You simply lowered yourself to the ground and waited for their curiosity to get the better of them.
They are hilarious creatures to watch. Every time 2 mates are reunited, even after a few hours apart, they re-enact their courtship ritual. (I think we as humans could learn something from them about keeping our love alive.)
One rule we had to adhere to was the minimal impact on the environment. Antarctica's ecosystem is one of the most fragile in the world and we had to respect that. The scientists who accompanied us gave us more insight as to what we were seeing by helping to explain the "why".
Occasionally, the inhabitants themselves would enforce these rules. I accidentally ventured too close to a skua's nest and got attacked by this Antarctic bird of prey. It lunged at my head and I had to drop on all fours in defense. I retreated, a little more aware of how untamed this place really was.
The further south we travelled the more magnificent the scenery became. The majesty of places such as the aptly named Paradise Bay, Lemaire Channel and Whaler's Bay was overwhelming and with 24 hours of daylight to explore and photograph this hidden gem I felt like I had died and gone to Heaven.
In the midst of all this grandeur, Humpback whales gave us a show waving to the boat and flipping their tails in the air as the fed on krill.
Glaciers would calve before our eyes, letting out a tumultuous roar as they impacted with the water, causing a huge tidal surge to explode outward in all directions.
I saw an iceberg, 150 feet in height suddenly buckle and overturn letting out a cloud of vapor, which completely obscured it from view for several moments. The forces of nature were truly on grand display here.
I went swimming on Deception Island. This desolate c-shaped rock is actually the crater of an ancient volcano. Part of the crater wall had been blown out during an eruption some time ago allowing all the seawater to rush in. It also provided an opening through which the Orlova could enter into the crater.
Because of the fumarole activity near the shore, the chilly Southern Ocean waters were heated to bearable levels, or so I thought. The soupy temperatures were limited to the first foot of water. Unknowingly, I plunged headlong into the surf for the shock of my life. I ran back ashore just as another snowstorm hit. With no time to spare, I donned all those layers again and we made a hasty retreat for the ship.
Such sudden changes in weather are common place in Antarctica. It can throw all seasons at you in a matter of hours. The ice can suddenly move in and lock an unsuspecting ship in its frozen grasp. While we were down there, another expedition ship did get stuck and had to be rescued by the Argentine Navy.
The relatively brief history of human presence on this continent is replete with such blows of fate, from the early exploration days of Scott and Shakleton to the volcano eruption that claimed the British Antarctic Survey base on Deception Island.
We would leave unscathed, sailing back up the Drake to round South America's infamous Cape Horn en route to Ushuaia.
It was hard to disembark the Orlova and say goodbye to everybody, after sharing such an unparallelled experience. Antarctica removes you from places safe and common, dramatically embracing you in its ultimate grasp so that you will never forget the gift of its visions. I believe I have seen Utopia and it lies south of here.
|
