Antarctica chapter ten
Whaler’s Bay: Ghostly remnants reminiscent of Richard Serra.
Our wake up call is at 07h. I’m up and on my balcony before the announcement is made. It’s a beautiful morning, the sunrise converts clouds into streaks of paint against the sky.
The seas are rougher than they’ve been and the ship has been rolling. We’re sailing towards Deception Island, which is the caldera of an active volcano and the site of an abandoned whaling station. We have been sailing north and have left Antarctica and are once again amongst the South Shetland Islands.
As we approach the island we’re told that the stabilizers will be pulled in due to the nature of the channel we’ll have to navigate. We should prepare ourselves for a little more movement than usual.
I remember Marina telling me her mother wanting the ship to move more; it helps her sleep. Now’s her chance. I’m not sure how many others on board would be as excited.
The wind blows and the clouds shift constantly. It’s blustery on the open seas; we hope for calm once we make it into the lee of caldera.
Andreas is on deck as we pass through the opening into the caldera. He talks about the geology of the area, pointing out the red rocks we pass to one side, giving us their names.
When we anchor the winds still gust and the sea is choppy. It’s not the sheltered bay we might have hoped for. From the ship we can see Neptune’s Window. Some claim that on clear days you can see the the Antarctic peninsula through it.
On calm days passengers are allowed to walk to it. On days like today wind gusts can lift someone off the ledge and cast them to the sea.
It’s unclear whether we’ll be able to make a landing. From the ship the shore looks spooky, a combination of the misty skies and the abandoned tanks on the beach.
The guides head out on a zodiac to assess conditions and to stake out a path. There’s concern that the wind gusts might throw debris from the decrepit buildings into the air. One of the guide tells me that back in the day people would do a polar plunge here. They’d dig a small pool on the beach and let it fill with water warmed by the volcanic activity, jump into the bay, and then warm up again in their pool.
When the guides return they deem it safe enough for a landing. The bay is a little rough and we’re warned that it may be a wet Zodiac cruise to the shore. Some of the guides are drenched with the return journey.
Our color group is the first to be called and I find myself on the first Zodiac headed out. I tell the guide I don’t mind getting wet and offer to sit in the front.
On shore, Szymon once again gives us a briefing and tells us how much time we have on shore then sets us free to explore.
The most striking aspect of the island are the huge whale oil tanks. Their color and shapes remind me of Richard Serra’s artwork and I wouldn’t be surprised if they were some lost idea in his head that had been realized on these shores.
Kris is standing at a post near the tanks. I’m the first to reach him and he tells me he has an idea: Three decks, 15 players. I nod my head. A 48-hour Monopoly Deal Marathon, I exclaim. Brackets and draws for a tournament! he rejoins. We’re about to continue plotting the next few days when others start arriving. He immediately switches into guide mode and gives us the history of the bay.
At the far end of the beach a wooden building stands by a small airstrip. In 1928, the Australian pilot Wilkins took off from it on the first powered flight in Antarctica. His endeavor was funded by William Randolph Hearst.
We’re not allowed to walk all the way to the airstrip and so I turn my attention to the decrepit buildings to my right; their weathered whitewashed walls ghostly apparitions against grey skies.
Luis stands at the furthest edge of our explorable area. They’ve completed the kayaking program on this trip; amazingly, everyone who has signed up and wanted to go has had a chance.
It’s his birthday today and I ask if he’s doing anything to celebrate. No, he tells me. A day like any other day. I offer to take his photo at least to commemorate the day. He agrees.
Nearby, crosses mark a graveyard for those left behind. The cemetery held graves for 35 men; a memorial stands for 10 more who are presumed drowned.
Turning around there’s a scene even mor reminiscent of Richard Sierra’s large, curving sculptures. I photograph the scene and then step closer for another view. The curved pieces of a collapsed oil tank emerge from the earth as if grasping for air.
Walking towards the tanks I pause to look back towards the hills and at the final dilapidated structure that stands on the beach.
I walk past the structure and the tanks, pausing to look at each from different angles as I pass.
The skeleton of a wooden boat sinks into the sand near our landing site. There’s no Zodiac available to take me back and so I linger on the beach and look towards Neptune’s window. I see little beyond.
Krill have washed up on the beach. The water temperature is too warm for them and we find them strewn about near the edge of the water. I’m tempted to eat one, just to see what it tastes like.
Fur seals also dot the shore. One lumbers along the base of the hills, destination unknown.
As I stand on the beach I begin to smell sulfer and see the warming waters rise as steam off the beach. Szymon tells me that if I dig my boots into the sand I can feel the warm through them. I do as he suggests and it’s true. I can feel the tops of my boots warm over as I dig them into the earth.
Back on board Andreas lectures on the geology of Antarctica. The groups have swapped and now it’s the Yellow and Blue groups turn on the island.
Once everyone is back on board, I find Dilini on deck eight lounging in one of the chairs. She’s slightly traumatized. She tells me that she had been walking along the beach towards the water when a fur seal came out of the water. Startled, it charged; Dilini turned and ran. Marina saw the whole thing. She had been shouting at her father, who was right behind Dilini, to keep his distance.
Just as she finishes her story an announcement on the PA asks for the passenger in cabin 312 to report to reception. It’s Dilini. I wonder if it has to do with her close encounter. She nervously makes her way downstairs.
I chat with Marina. I tell her that I find her father fascinating and it’s been so great talking with him. She tells me he’s happy to have an audience. I tell her I’m planning on visiting Rio later in the year and she swaps contact info with me so that we can hang when I visit.
When Dilini returns she tells us that she hadn’t been scanned back onto the boat. She’s not sure if she was still in a state and forgot to present her card for scanning or what. They needed to check that she was on board before we could depart. When she returns to her room she finds a number of missed calls on her phone.
•
We depart the way we came, easing back through the break in the caledera to reach the open sea.
As we depart Deception Island a line of penguins swims before the bow of the ship, their tiny forms just breaking the waves.
We sail towards and then into a fog. As we continue towards our next destination, it lifts slightly, revealing the landscape alongside we sail. Like Whaler’s Bay, it appears a ghostly apparition on the horizon. it’s like a mirage.
As we make our way towards Fort Point we see an iceberg and humpack whales off in the distance. The wind has risen, but the skies are clear and we can feel the air temperature rising as we sail further north.
At Fort Point we’re unable to do a landing. The guides set out on a Zodiac and determine that not only are the swells too substantial at the landing site, but there are actually too many seals on shore. There’s no place for people to be able to go ashore and keep their distance.
From deck eight we have a beautiful view of the beach and you can see that it’s teeming with life. Eilidh says that it looks a little like home and I offer to take a portrait of her standing in front of her homeland.
A bunch of us linger on deck. It’s a warm afternoon and the sun shines bright. The ship lingers as well, and we’re rewarded with a beautiful sunset before we sail. I take Tamsin’s portrait and then she offers to take mine with the sun behind. I set my camera and hand it to her. She takes a lovely portrait.
As we set sail there’s activity on the horizon. A pod of whales are spouting off in the distance. Craig tries his best to capture it with his lens. Andi races on deck thinking they may be orca. Craig captures a photo and zooms in. Dave identifies them as a beaked whale, but it’s unclear which. It’ll take further investigation. We all miss the evening briefing.
In the end it’s just Starie, Craig, Eilidh, and I, and we decide to head below decks together. None of us want to be the one to leave only to find that everyone else has seen something spectacular.
After dinner we chat with Szymon. He tell us that the more international a cruise is the better. He’s enjoyed the diversity of this one. He also tells us that the kitchen staff is one of the hardest-working crews on the ship. The kitchen is closed only from 00h to 03h. Otherwise, there’s constantly someone working. All of the bread is baked fresh daily.
•
In the evening we’re treated to a concert by Leila. When it showed up on the calendar we were all wondering who she was. It turns out she’s one of the waitstaff in the dining room; the most professional of them all. We gather in the lecture hall and the lights are dimmed. She picks up her guitar and starts singing “Can’t Help Falling in Love.” She sings “(They Long to Be) Close to You.” She sings a song by Teresa Teng. It’s like a scene from Crazy Rich Asians. It’s lovely. 🇦🇶
26 February 2024
