Antarctica chapter four
Portal Point
&
Enterprise Island.
I wake up to icebergs outside my window.
We’ve been cruising through the night and we’re on approach to Portal Point on the western coast of Graham Land, the site of our next landing. By the time I am dressed enough to step outside, my neighbor is already out on the balcony, taking photos.
I am mesmerized by their shape and size and how they transform as they and the ship float past each other. In the morning light, under heavy skies, they look otherworldly. I remain out on the balcony to watch them pass. The sea is calm and there is almost no wind. It’s as peaceful a morning I’ve ever witnessed, broken only by my neighbor’s greeting before we each go back each into our own meditative states.
The sun struggles to break through the cloud cover.
I eat a small breakfast in Elmer’s section. A pot of hot water sits by my placemat by the time I’ve returned to my seat with my bowl of granola. I eat quickly and then retire to my cabin to wait for my color group to be called. We’ve been told at last night’s briefing that one supergroup will be doing a zodiac cruise while the other explores the island and then we will swap. My group is set to do the zodiac cruise first.
After getting dressed I decide to linger by the stairs to await the call. Emma and Carl are standing by with the same thought in mind. They’re from the UK and booked the trip last minute after arriving in Ushuaia. I applaud their spontaneity and marvel at their luck. It turns out they’re not the only couple to have done so.
In the mudroom, I’m developing habits to make the process become more habitual. Still, I struggle a little with the life vest. It seems simple enough and yet now and again I get it tangled in a way I can’t comprehend. Thankfully, Jeff, one of the guides, seems always to be around to check vests and to straighten them out.
On board the zodiac the majority of the passengers are Chinese. The guide asks if everyone speaks English. She gets blank stares and asks me to translate her safety briefing. She goes over what to do when there’s a man overboard, what to do if she goes overboard, when we can stand (ask first!), and overall etiquette. It taxes my vocabulary, but I translate well enough to give everyone the gist (I hope).
One of the things that strikes me most about Antarctica is the light: how quickly it changes along with the weather and how a scene can take on a completely different tenor from moment to moment. It’s not something I had considered, and I’m thankful we’ve been given the opportunity thus far to admire the changing conditions.
Whales have been spotted logging and we cruise towards them. Three are sleeping in the bay; we see the edge of their backs amongst the soft waves. The conditions for spotting them is near-perfect. The guide silences the motor and lets us drift nearby.
Later, I’ll hear that a passenger asked a guide on another zodiac if whales sleep only in the water. “They’d be dead if they didn’t,” another passenger retorted. Privately, the guide thanked them for saying the things they could not.
We make our way towards the shore and the landing point, first approaching it from the opposite side of the point. We cruise past icebergs dotted with birds. In the distance we can see our fellow passengers standing on the ice on the point. From a distance it’s difficult to tell the difference between the local fauna and the invasive species overtaking the point.
We approach a small cove where our guide has spotted fur seals, notable as they are the only pinnipeds in the area that can arch their back. As we approach a fur seal waddles in the shallows in parallel to our trajectory. It’s unclear whether its curious about us or looking to get away. We lose it as it climbs upon a rocky outcropping until it pokes its head back up to watch us pass.
Coming back out of the cove we round the point towards our landing spot. We’re rewarded with views of the point emptying out as the first supergroup of passengers begins to embark on their zodiac tours.
From the point we have views out over the bay. In the distance we can see whales blowing, zodiacs following the spouts and buzzing about. Our ship sits idle as activity swarms about. Near the landing point, a seal has stretched out on the ice. Crossed flags mark the distance we’re to keep.
At one point, the clouds in the distance part for a moment to reveal a mountain range that had been completely hidden from view. We never see its base as the clouds converge to obscure the view as quickly as they had cleared the way moments before.
At one point I see a guide racing towards me, shouting at two Chinese passengers who have wandered way past a set of crossed flags. I shout the warning out to them in Chinese, asking them to come back within bounds. The guide breathlessly thanks me for the translation. Just beyond the rise lies a crevasse; had the passengers wandered a bit further it may have spelled an early end to the cruise.
Garret is standing on a clear patch of ice overlooking the bay. He’s taking photos of the whales with a long lens attached to his camera. He holds a cardboard sign with THE ANTARCTIC CONTINENT written on it in big bold letters. A steady stream of people ask to borrow it for pictures and selfies. I follow suit.
With my time on the island at an end I walk back to the landing point. I feel like I’m on one of the last zodiacs back to the ship, but will learn over dinner that there was one couple that hung back.
Back on board I lunch with Dilini, Ellie, and Kris, one of the kayak guides. We ask him if he has any additional responsibilities; he tells us he is sometimes tapped to provide additional entertainment. Magic? I ask. No. Dancing? Signing? No, and no. “Adult” entertainment? Dilini asks. Kris gives her a look. I don’t know! she protests. He was being awfully cagey about it!
He tells us that he sometimes runs music trivia contests and hums a tune for us to guess. We’re all at a loss. “Africa,” he tells us. By Toto. We rib him on his ability to hum a tune and he tells us that Joel, one of the waiters who is also a musician will get it immediately. He calls Joel over and hums a few bars. Nothing. It’s Africa! he tells him. Ah! Joel starts singing and we join him, having proved our point about Kris’s lack of humming prowress.
He excuses himself to prepare for the afternoon. If conditions are good he’ll be leading the first kayaking expedition at our next destination. I’m in the first group of seven groups comprised of those who have committed to paddling, and I’m happy that the opportunity has presented itself so early in our voyage. It’s not assured that anyone will get to go.
I’ve already been outfitted with a waterproof suit and double check with Kris what layers to wear, mimicking the layers he himself has on.
The ship navigates to Enterprise Island while we eat, anchoring at Foyn Harbor, where the wreck of the Guvernøren rusts near the shore. In her time the Guvernøren was one of the largest whaling factory ships, run aground by its captain in 1915 to save his crew (and whale oil) after a fire broke out on board.
The conditions for kayaking are good and the ten of us in group one are called to the mudroom before anyone else. The intention is to get on the water before the zodiacs do.
We don our outfits and I am assigned a partner. It’s Vivan’s mom from next door. She’ll be paddling with her dad.
We step into the marina and into a zodiac. Kris and Luis have arranged the kayaks and tied them to the zodiac. We cruise towards the shore until we find a peaceful spot near the shipwreck. A sailboat motors its way towards the shipwreck and moors alongside it. Kris tells us we’ll wait and let them pass before we begin.
Luis demonstrates how to get into a kayak and then Kris helps us get into ours, he’ll be following in the zodiac. Luis gives us a few pointers and then has us kayak over to him so he can assess our abilities. He tells us that we’ll paddle first to the shipwreck and then paddle along the shore into another cove. From there he’ll reassess.
It’s great being on the water. Vivian’s mom and I find an easy rhythm and I paddle when she wants to take photos of Vivian on the other kayak. I ask her to hang back so we can take pictures of the ship with no one else around. Fortunately, her family hangs back as well and I get a shot of them alone just before they disappear around the wreck.
Coming around the wreck we stop for a moment to chat with the crew of the sailboat. They’ve spent a few days crossing the Drake. I tell them they’re braver souls than I. The other kayakers are a bit farther ahead and so we cut our chat short so that we can catch up, following them as they hug the shore, paddling past the ice.
Coming around the bend we pass between the island and another rocky outcropping. The hulls of two wooden boats lay on the rocks, further remnants of the whalers and sealers who once plied these waters.
We paddle on around the rocks and are rewarded with a fur seal sighting. They almost blend into the rock upon which they’re lying until they get up to watch us pass. We linger until Luis gently suggests we continue.
We continue paddling around the island and between outcroppings. Vivian has taken to calling out her strokes so that her father can match her rhythm. Her mother tells her to take time to soak in the scenery. She needn’t be so focused on the paddling.
We continue to bring up the rear, paddling faster to close the gap when we’ve let too much distance separate us from the pack. Kris hangs back keeping a watchful eye on us all.
We reach a sheltered bay where the water is calm and Luis calls us in for a group photo before having us paddle by him one by one for individual photos.
From there we continue onwards. Once out of the bay the wind picks up and the water becomes choppier. We paddle a bit further and then Luis suggests we head back to the sheltered bay. We need to get back to the ship.
We climb back into the zodiac and he and Kris tie the kayaks nose to stern and let them float behind us as we cruise to the ship. The wind has picked up even more and it’s a bit of a bumpy ride. We got our kayak expedition in at the perfect time.
Back on the ship I head to the jacuzzi. It wasn’t terribly cold while we were active (I ended up taking off my gloves while paddling and let the water run over my hands) but after the zodiac and being back on board I welcome the warm water and massaging jets.
As I bask in the hot tub, icebergs around me, I can’t help but think about how lucky I am to be able to experience this and the incongruity of it all. I can’t believe I’m visiting Antarctica and I can’t believe how beautiful is.
I shower and head down to the conference room in time to catch Laura’s talk on glaciology. There’s ice cream being served as a tie-in and I opt for the vanilla and chocolate. I’m told the butter peacan is amazing, but somehow I resist.
The evening briefing follows. We’re on track to reach the Antarctic Circle tomorrow and will be sailing all morning until then. As a result there’s no wakeup call. Vide’s talk about the race to the South Pole has been rescheduled for the morning followed by a presentation on penguins by Cherese. In the afternoon, we’ll visit Detaille Island and Base W, a hastily abandoned post due to ice conditions that now serves as a museum and time capsule of 1950s Antarctic life.
I’ve made dinner reservations at the hot stone restaurant for Dilini, Ellie, and myself for 20h. I invite Szymon, the expedition leader, to join us. We have an hour or so before dinner and so I wander up to the eighth deck observation with Dilini and Ellie to watch our ship’s progress into the night.
•
Our watch starts peacefully. The conditions are grey and sea swells. And then we see spouts. Humpbacks appear off the port side, a small group that surface and dive into the sea.
Suddenly there’s a lot of activity in the distance, spouts are shooting up out of the sea at an almost frantic rate and animals are splashing about. Guides and guests grab binoculars and cameras to look through to try and determine what is going on. There are more groups of humpbacks and . . . orca? They’re far and hard. Even in the best conditions they’d be hard to spot and the conditions are not great.
Andi has appeared on deck and cries out breathlessly, training her binoculars towards the horizon. Syzmon has asked the captain to slow the ship and the engines idle. An annoucement is made and the observation deck fills.
And then a snow petral circles the ship! It’s one of the rarest birds in the Antarctic and difficult to see. Pierre struggles to get a clear shot of it as it flies once, twice around the ship before disappearing.
The humpbacks are closer now and everyone goes back to watching them, hoping to get clearer views of the orca, which are still off in the distance. Dilini is underdressed and heads below. She tells us she’ll catch us at dinner.
A pod of orca appear off the starboard side, chasing fur seals! One fur seal escapes and we see it bobbing in the water looking back at the pod that continues swimming aft.
Amazingly, Dilni catches sight of the orca chasing seals through the windows on deck five and shoots and awesome video of the scene.
The boats engines have resumed; we can linger no longer and must continue on our way. The guides excitedly look at their photos through their camera screens. Pierre is checking his snow petrel photos. He’s not sure if they’re clear. They run down to their cabins to download their photos to see them on larger screens. They all know what they’ll be doing tonight.
We meet Szymon for dinner and ask him about his duties. He tells us that he actually leads the expedition; it’s not just a title. He’s responsible for the itinerary, adapting it when necessary, making the most out of any situation. He meets regularly with the captain to let him know where he wants us to go. So you’re more important than the captain? No no no, he says. The captain is still the most important person on the ship. But you tell him where to go. To that he has no response.
We ask him if he has the authority to marry people and he says he has. In fact, he married a couple today at Portal Point. We ask him who and he demurs. They want to remain anonymous. But, he tells us, they are not native speakers. They performed the ceremony after everyone else had left; only he, Tammy, and a small number of guides were there to witness and document the event.
He’s also presided over funerals. People can get special permits to scatter ashes in South Georgia. Funerals are a much more delicate affair. You want to give people space, but you’re also responsible for them and for keeping to a schedule.
He tells us that 72 ships now ply these waters, competing for landing sites. Each site has four time slots during the day, from 00h to 24h. Competition runs high for the prime spots, and the cruise lines must be ready as soon as reservations open to secure them. He tells us the most annoying are the big ships as they’ll block the prime spots for an entire day in order to accommodate all their passengers.
After dinner Kris asks if we want to play Monopoly Deal. He has a well-worn deck secured by a rubber band. It’s been handed down to him by another guide.
We collect in the library and deal out the the cards. Most of us are unfamiliar with the game and so we play an open hand along as a learning exercise along with Cherese, whose main goal is to crush people’s souls. I win, but it’s the only time during the voyage I will until the very end. From then on, we play every chance we get. 🇦🇶
21 February 2024
