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Category Archives: Patrick in Antarctica
The grip of the cold
This afternoon the temperature plummeted to -10 degrees. The snow was falling from a bruised grey sky and fell to the hungry dark sea with barely a flicker as the winds had been swallowed by the cold. As the snow settled on the water it merged into a thin slurry that carpeted the surface of the sea like an oil slick and the sea turned into a sheet of roiling frosted ice. Before long the slurry of snow began to freeze. Soon the zodiacs where sending cracks into the frozen sea ahead as we searched for the elusive silhouette of the ship amidst the flakes of snow that scut visibility down to 15 meters. Thank the gods for the GPS … otherwise I think we may have spent the night frozen into the sea as so many of yesterday’s explorers of Antarctica have done.
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Ice
Early this morning we delicately twisted the huge hunk of steel that is our ship through the narrow and twisting leads in the ice that stretched across the narrow Lemaire Channel that separates the mainland of Antarctica from Booth Island. On either side the 800 meter channel the rock rises steeply in sheer cliffs and stretched before us was a tumbling array of sea ice and floating icebergs that taunted us in our ambition of driving further south for the day.
Eventually we made it through the channel only to be stopped by an impenetrable barrier of ice. One we had assessed our chances of proceeding we submitted to the power of the ice and checked our southerly passage for a morning of exploring the ice in zodiacs. Right now my left arm (the arm I drive with) is like jelly after having spent hours at the helm pushing the zodiac in amongst the bergs to discover seals and penguins hidden in the labyrinthine maze of leads and piled up ice.
Wide wasteland
We are now charging back across the Drake Passage towards Antarctica at a prodigious speed and leaving a vivid white wake through the calm silky seas behind us. The wind is barely raising a ripple of the gently roiling waves that stretch across the horizon and the Southern Ocean is quiet. Barely a bird is to be seen on these seas that typically boast a profusion of soaring albatross, petrels and prions, and the occasional blue petrel darting by the bow serves more to highlight the absence of the expected avifauna than to break the mood of an empty ocean. No whale blows break the flat horizon and we it is easy to feel alone out here with the horizon stretching off unbroken in all directions. But it is not a feeling of loneliness that encompasses me at the moment but one of being lost in a vast and unexplored world, one of not knowing what will appear before us, and the excitement of driving forward towards the ice.
Winds of yesterday
We are now making for Cape Horn, a name synonymous with mighty pounding ocean hungry for the lives of unwary sailors. Thousands of mariners have lost their lives to the cold waters of the horn as the struggled to skirt the craggy finger of the South American continent and make passage between the Atlantic and the Pacific Oceans. Today, however, we are gliding upon a silken sea with a lazy breeze that lacks the strength to raise foam from peaks of the gentle swell rolling in from the west. The birds have adopted the languor of their wind gods and sullenly flap about the boat or sit on the surface of the water as if reminiscing about stormy seas and the embrace of mightier winds within their outstretched wings.
The Horn should be in sight by lunch and we will peer towards the rocky outcrop that has marked so much maritime misery and read the inscription that is dedicated to lost sailors:
I am the Albatross that waits for you,
At the end of the Earth.
I am the forgotten soul of the deceased sailor,
Who crossed Cape Horn,
From all the seas of the world.
But they did not die in the furious waves.
Today they fly in my wings to eternity,
In the last trough of the Antarctic winds.
Sara Vial (Translated from the original Spanish)
100 years since Scott
Today marks 100 years since Captain Robert Falcon Scott battled the rigors of the Antarctic in the best British tradition of hardship against the elements to reach the South Pole … in the unenviable position of second. Scott found the flags of Norway firmly planted in the hard-packed snow of the plateau with the Norwegian part led by Amundsen have beaten the tenacious Brit to the prize.
Today we were unable to land on Antarctica due to the winds streaming from the west and the swell that crashed upon the bobbing ice bergs. Certainly nothing as adverse at the conditions that confronted Scott and ultimately claimed his life and that of his party. But still enough to remind one that this is still one of the last frontiers of human endeavour and an environment that does not welcome the casual advance of man.
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The march of the penguins
Today we stepped ashore at Peterman Island which is the furthest south I have made it this summer. The island was fringed by drifts of pack ice through which penguins porpoised on their way to land. The interesting thing to note was which penguins were swimming by as we battled through the ice to make the shore. On the island there are over 3000 pairs of Gentoo Penguins, and around 500 pairs of Adelie Penguins. But these number are shifting at a rate equivalent to the ice flowing past the rocky shores on which they nest.
It seems that on this particular island we are witnessing a shift from a system, dominated by Adelie’s towards a system dominated by Gentoo penguins, and each year the proportion of Gentoo’s increases and the Adelie’s declines. Bear in mind that this is the furthest South that Gentoo penguins are known to breed. The shift seems very much like the staging point for a southward invasion of Gentoo’s … and the reason? Well it has everything to do with climate.
The Antarctic Peninsula is experiencing a significant increase in average temperature .. not enough to be appreciable to the casual visitor, but certainly enough to affect the yearly extent of sea ice .. but certainly not enough to bother a penguin surely? Well, the answer is found in the explosive emissions from a penguin’s rear end. As one watched these spectacular spurts one notices that rather than the rich red colour that transpired from a full belly of krill, many of the penguins on the island are shooting spouts of white. White, as it turns out, shows that the penguins are eating squid or fish, rather than the krill which represent the mainstay of the Antarctic food web.
So what is happening? It seems that the prey that penguins feed upon are much more susceptible to temperature changes than the penguins themselves and as fish species thrive is slightly warmer temperatures while krill struggle in the face of disappearing sea ice, the penguins are finding the menu a little different from the norm. It seems Gentoo’s are pretty eclectic in their diet while Adelie’s have a penchant for krill, krill and more krill.
In the face of this culinary shift we are now witnessing the triumph of the junk food diet over that of the fussy feeder … sound familiar? Well watch this space!
The birds that make the wind blow (R.C. Murphy)
We are now half way across the Drake Passage with our bow pointed towards the Lemaire Channel which is much further south than we normally aim for the start of a trip. Very much looking forward to getting in amongst the serious ice right at the beginning of the trip!
But right now we are gently rolling in languid seas with an escort of albatross soaring around the ship. Wandering albatross with their wingspan of over three meters surround us and display their plumage like badges of rank denoting their age. Some birds still present the dark cap and brown plumage of juveniles, some have discarded the brown feather but retain the collar that proclaims them as sub-adults, some hold the black and white plumage of breeding adults and a few proudly display the broad expanse of white wings that marks them as mature adults approaching the full 50 years of their lifespan. Amidst these colossal ocean wanderers are a host of other albatross including black browed, grey headed and light mantled sooty albatross, as well as smaller ocean birds like the Wilson’s storm petrel, cape petrel, Antarctic prion and the slender billed prion.
It’s a vast ocean but it is hard to feel lonely when surrounded by such splendid companions.
Swallowed by the mist
We are currently crossing that notorious body of water known as Drake Passage – renowned for terrible wind and waves. Yet the ship is barely moving as we charge through flat calm seas surrounded by a heavy mist that has clung to the ship all day masking the world from our eyes save a dim 20 meter swath of lazy water. Occasionally a slender billed prion or a blue petrel darts out of the mist and past the bow of the ship but apart from these rare and fleeting glimpses of life it feels almost as if we are all alone in a world that starts and ends only meters from the ship.
Posted in Drake passage, Patrick in Antarctica
Tagged Blue petrel, Slender billed prion
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The full monty
The highlight of today was a zodiac cruise in Cierva Cove. Started off in windy weather with a decent surge and I admit that it looked to be an uninspiring cruise with no wildlife despite the amazing scenery of glaciers and sheer cliffs covered with moss (a feature which has warranted special area status for the region).
But within ten minutes of leaving the ship I discovered a humpback whale cruising amidst the iceberg. What followed was 15 minutes of excitement as the whale breached and played within 15 meters of the zodiac. Pretty heady stuff, but eventually I decided to leave the whale to its own devises and find out what else the area had to offer. Ten minutes later I was sidled up to a leopard seal pup on an ice flow and watched as it yawned and slipped silently into the mess of brash ice covering the water. Apparently the pup was a little concerned by the ominous black zodiac checking it out and communicated the fact to his mum who promptly turned up and put on a show as she circled the zodiac and swam beneath us to see exactly what was threatening her young pup, Absolutely amazing to see these graceful predators up close and see the elegance of these killers swimming through the icy waters.
These highlights were followed with more fantastic Antarctic wildlife. Penguins porpoising and flying rocketing out of the water to land on icebergs … or occasionally to miss their mark and ricochet of the ice and back into the water. Groups of crabeater and weddell seals lounging on icebergs. Wilsons storm petrels skimming small crustaceans off the surface of the water … and many more of the sights that make the Antarctic one on the most spectacular wildernesses on the planet.
Definitely a good day….
Sunshine and Cetaceans
The heavens cleared today and we sailed through tranquil seas fringed by mountains bearing their weight of ice beneath the last clouds that hung low over the craggy peaks and refused to depart with the general exodus of grey that flew north on the wings of a southerly wind. The wind in question continued to whip the sea into a flurry of white caps, but as we pushed through the Errera Channel, the white horses riding over the waves were accompanied by the clouds of spume sent towards the heavens by an incredible feeding aggregation of humpback whales.
It’s easy to imagine the glee that early whalers felt when they saw whale aggregations like this… you could literally point the bow in any direction and target a humpback whale which would provide a generous bounty of oil. Unfortunately the easy pickings led to the rapid decline of the whales in question.
Now, whales in the abundance we witnessed today are rare. Seeing these leviathans lunge through swarms of krill, mouths agape, birds circling around to clean up the scraps, whale flukes crashing through the waves and pectoral fins flailing … it’s an incredible experience. The whales are returning though nowhere near in the numbers they once boasted. Let’s hope that in the future the blue whale, sei whale and fin whale will also return to these waters and once again we can experience Antarctica in all its natural splendour!