Antarctica chapter six
Petermann Island, a polar plunge, and the Lemaire Channel.
Clouds press heavily upon the sea and our surroundings. The sun reflects back off the waves onto the hazy veil drawn over its light. As it rises, completely obscured by the gloom, the day settles into a uniform grey.
I take breakfast with Starrie and Craig from the UK. She’s a psychologist now working with children after having spent four years working in the prison system; he’s a developer for a major international bank.
I ask about her work and the work she did to obtain her clinical doctorate. It’s fascinating to hear her talk about trauma, the way in which she approached her conversations with inmates and guards, and how she created a space where they could take off their armor and be vulnerable.
We also speak of gratitude, of how simple it is for some and yet difficult for others to be preseent and grateful, of how fortunate we are to be on this ship, together, experience the wonder that surrounds us.
Ir’s a wonderful conversation and I wish it could go on, but upon noticing the time I make my excuses to return to my cabin to prepare for the morning’s excursion to Petermann Island.
Back in my cabin I see Vivian dancing by the panel that separates our balconies. 鯨魚! she calls out to me. I open the door to the balcony. There’s a humpback whale off the starboard bow. We watch as it dives and surfaces and dives, then swims in front of the boat to the port side.
The red color group is called. As they head back to the cabin to prepare for our excursion I hear Vivian say, as if to herself, this boat is great. I wholeheartedly agree.
Petermann Island is a small round island off the northwest coast of Kyiv Peninsula in Graham Land. It was discovered by the German expedition of 1873–74, who named it after geographer August Petermann. For us, the main attraction is the colony of gentoo penguins who currently call it home.
My group is called and I head down to the mudroom and then to a waiting Zodiac for the trip to the island.
On approach we see a group of penguins readying themselves to jump in the water. Our guide slows the Zodiac to let us watch. They follow one intrepid penguin as it makes its way towards the water then hesitates. The group packs in behind. Just as we think they’re about to leap, they turn back. Our guide opens the throttle and just as we cruise away they turn back towards the water and slip into waves.
On the island we are given two paths. One to the left that leads to views of the sea, and one to the right which leads to an outcropping of rocks with a large group of penguins. I decide to head left, leaving the penguins for later.
I spot a few penguins as I make my way to the end of the demarcated path. One or two waddle past across a large icy plain and I watch patiently as they pick their way past. Unfortunately, as I reach the end of the path I run across the remains of an ex-penguin.
From the hilltop there’s a great view into a cove where a few icebergs have gathered. The bright blue tint of the ice under the water suggests how massive they are underneath, but the color tapers off with the depth. A few birds have perched on the snow banks and I watch as they watch each other and me.
Turning back around I pause to take photos while descending towards the shore: of the penguins that have climbed upon a rock to my right, and of Syzmon and Vide on the shore by the Argentine refuge hut built in 1955, its red walls a striking contrast to the otherwise monochromatic scene.
Back near our point of embarkation I turn left to explore the other side of our landing site. An older Chinese woman has found her way onto the unmarked ice and Vide is trying to coax her back towards the rocky area where it’s less slippery. I call out to her and translate his warnings and advice. We watch as she slowly poles her way towards us; we’d potentially do more harm than good fetching her without crampons on our boots.
I stop and take photos of penguin feathers shed amongst the rocks before I head on to follow a well-trod trail over the ice towards a penguin rookery on the hill.
At the rookery, I take photos of the penguins and chat with Pierre, who is left to watch over us as we walk gently up the slopes. I’ve left the rookery little time, however, and soon after arriving need to make my way back.
At the landing point I run across Cherese. Remembering her birthday I sing to her in Chinese. She accepts my birthday wishes.
Once again I find myself on board Garrett’s Zodiac. As we start making a tour of the coastline we come across another guide’s Zodiac. She’s caught a krill in a specimen jar and we cruise over to have a look before continuing to motor along the rocky shores.
Garrett has an idea. He leaves the island and cruises out towards the channel. We pass icebergs big and small, scanning our surroundings for wildlife.
And then we see it. A leopard seal lounging on an ice floe; our first of the voyage. Garrett’s done it again.
Back on board a BBQ lunch has been prepared on Deck 7 in the outdoor dining area. A light snow falls as we fill our plates with food. We sit where we can, going back for seconds when we’re done. The pork asado is the star of the show; the skin is crisp and perfectly done, the meat tender and sweet.
Afterwards we gather with Kris and Heidi in the lounge. Dilini, Ellie, and I ask if we can all head to the plunge together, irrespective of our color groups. She says she’ll allow it.
When the time comes Dilini and I are first in line. Kris had advised us that the first people get to wear a dry harness. And a dry harness equals a warm harness.
The air temperature is 3°C (37.4°F); the water temperature a balmy 2°C (35.6°F). We have come to the marina in our swimsuits and robes. Vide suggests I not wear my glasses for the plunge. I tell him I’ll put them in the pocket of my robe. He graciously holds onto it when it comes time.
A Zodiac has been tied to the marina. We step into it and climb upon the board and then . . . jump! (Dilini more aptly plunges).
The water is cold and invigorating. Dilini nopes out as quick as she is able. I tread water. A tingling sensation runs through my thighs. Fortunately, she’s close to the ladder, and I wait for her to ascend before swimming over and climbing on board. I wish I could have swum a little longer; I want to do it again.
Dilini and I make our way up to Deck 7 and slip into the jacuzzi. My muscles continue to tingle even in the warm water. We turn on the bubbles and it’s a strange feeling to have the water massaging me as my muscles continue to tingle on their own.
Below, we can see the rest of the ship as they do their plunge. Some slide off of the edge of the Zodiac, others dive. One gentleman turns around and dives backwards into the sea.
As more passengers arrive to warm up from their dives I make room and head to my cabin to shower and change.
There are no more excursions for the day; after the plunge we’re to navigate north through the Lemaire Channel, an 11km channel that is only 600m at its narrowest point running between the mountains of Booth Island and the Peninsula. First navigated by the Belgian de Gerlache in 1898, it bears the name of a Belgian explorer of the Congo.
On the far end of the channel are a twin set of peaks, dubbed Una's Tits after Una Spivey, a secretary in Stanley, Islas Malvinas, who was working for what is now the British Antarctic Survey.
I watch our passage on the Deck 7 observatory, in front of the bridge. An announcement is made for the guides to assemble on deck for a group photo. As they appear Tammy looks for someone to take the photo. Vide tells her to find the guy with the most hipster camera, guesturing in my direction. I ask if he’s making fun of me. No, he says. He’s jealous. I take a few for her and then before they disperse, take one for me, for safety.
We continue making our way through the channel. We move at a leisurely pace, the mountains drawfing the ship as the seas grant us passage.
The crowds disperse little by little until there are few left on deck. And then we head in to get drinks at the bar.
At the briefing, Szymon acknowledges Charese’s birthday but she’s nowhere to be found. Later she tells us she didn’t realize that they were going to do so; she had just stepped out for a moment.
At dinner we celebrate Carl’s birthday. He’s from the UK with his partner; they had purchased a last minute ticket in Ushuaia. We commandeer the largest table and the kitchen sends out a birthday cake at the end. Joel appears with a guitar and we sing Happy Birthday as Carl blows out his candle.
In the evening, Andi and Tamsin host How Big Is It? a game where teams are tasked with estimating the size of things. When we enter Thuy, from Connecticut, is sitting alone in the back of the room, a team of one. Dilini, Ellie, and I join her. Marina, from Rio, sits in the back to watch, but we draft her to be part of our team.
When Tamsin asks us what our team name is Ellie suggests Cruise Daddies. Tamsin doesn’t quite catch it and so I start shouting it out: Cruise Daddies! Like Who’s your daddy? She writes down Cruise Your Daddy. It’s better.
We start out slowly, doing a poor job at estimating the size of animals. A line has been strung up between the front of the room and a pillar and we are to put our lanyards at a spot that marks our guess. Not only do we have to have an idea of the length, but we also need to have an idea of how that length translates to an actual measurement. No Googling! the guides admonish.
Each round we shout a chorus of How big is it before the answer is revealed.
We score points for the length of a Zodiac thanks to Marina’s dad; he’s a pilot in the Rio harbor and knows boats. We do a good job estimating Vide’s height. We rise slowly in the ranks.
The second-to-last team takes solace in the fact that they’re not last until we all realize that the team in last place was the original name Phyoe had chosen for our team before we changed it. They’re now at a loss.
For the final round we’re told that not only do we have to guess how big is it, but the team member who attaches the lanyard needs to dance their way up to the line. Points will be awarded based on style; the guides will judge. Dilini and Ellie look at me.
We’re last to be called and so we have time to suss out the competition. When it’s our turn they tell me they want to see me use the whole floor. They tell me they want me to think about different zones of movement. They tell me a player on an opposing team is a trained ballroom dancer. I tell them I’m Ludacris in The Fast and the Furious. They look at me with blank stares. I got this.
I do the running man. I do the worm. I try to remember the Roger Rabbit but decide against it given the rocking of the boat. Kris, watching from the back, is impressed. He asks me how my knees are.
The guides disappear to tally scores. Points will also be awarded for best team name. When they emerge they announce the winners. We come in second. A Chinese team that was assisted by one of the Chinese guides comes in first by a point. Tamsin votes for us for best dance and best name.
They announce the prizes. The first place team wins a private Zodiac cruise. We win three penguin stickers. Dilini is despondant. She alleges collusion. She wants to lodge a formal complain. She’s looking for the manager.
It’s past 23h when I get back to my cabin. Dilini remains unplacated. I get ready for bed and turn out the lights to see the landscape illuminted by moonlight. I put my parka and a hat on and step out onto the balcony to take photos. As our ship passes the mountains, a glacier slips into view, illuminated by the ship’s lights. It glows warmly against the blue backdrop of Antarctica and the seas. In its wake, a trail of ice. 🇦🇶
23 February 2024
