The Ross Sea Antarctica, part four
Three days at sea.
By morning we’ve reached 54°35.48'S. We’re south of Cambpell Island and almost in line with Macquarie Island (though far to the east of it).
I take breakfast in the formal dining room and fall into conversation with Ricky. He asks if I’m Chinese; I tell him my parents were born in China but grew up in Taiwan. I was born in the States. He asks if I speak Chinese. I do. He does as well and we switch to Mandarin.
I ask him where he learned his Chinese. He tells me he lived nine years in Taiwan: three contracts working as a technician in a battery factory building RAM. It’s hard work; he did it in his younger years. He tells me cruise ship work is better. It’s still hard work, but it pays more and you get to see the world.
After breakfast I head to the first lecture of the day. Lachie and Sabrina co-host a talk on identtifying birds. There have been a lot swarming around the ship, and they do a great job breaking down the different types we’re likely to see. Their personalities and the banter between them make it all the more enjoyable.
Before lunch I head to the aft of the ship and the outdoor observation on deck three. The ocean churns with the strength of our propellers. An albatross soars behind us.
Lachie and some of the other passengers are out with binoculars searching for birds.
After lunch I text pictures of the food to Natalie. She’s had a lie in and is working on her presentations. She asks how I’m doing. I tell her I’m thinking of heading to the bridge and she asks to join. 15h? I tell her I’ll take a nap.
We meet at 15h and Natalie tells me the lecture she thought started at 1530 starts now. We head to the theater in time to catch Oscar’s talk on how animals adapt to cold weather. It’s fascinating how the blood vessels in their legs have adapted to regulate the temperature of their blood. As part of his introduction, he tells us about his past and shows us a slide of him taking care of dolphins at the private Carribean zoo of a South-American drug lord.
After the talk we run into Manuel on the bridge and he identifies birds for us as they swoop over the waves around the bow. Natalie asks if we’re confirmed for dinner with Oscar. She thinks there’s a sign up sheet and we walk down to the front desk to check.
The naturalist dinner sign up sheet is full and we ask Leonie if we can invite people to dinner directly. She says it’s fine and pages Manuel to ask if he’s free. There’s a mixup with the names. Until now I’ve mistaken Oscar for Manuel and Leonie pages Oscar after asking Manuel a question she needn’t ask him in person. She tries to pass off my mistake, but Manuel remains suspect.
Oscar arrives and tells us he’s free for dinner. We arrange to meet at 19h on deck six.
At dinner we’re joined by Alice, a representative of the New Zealand government on board as an observer, and Allie and Debbie who leave after drinks; they have dinner plans in the formal dining room. It’s a fun time, leaning about Oscar and his past lives before having kids and moving to Australia. We all talk about the things we did in our 20s and 30s and the things we put up with because we were too young to know better. No regrets and never again Oscar says. Cheers to that.
After dinner I head to the bridge to look out over the leaden sea. It’s beautiful and serene. The Safety Officer is on watch and we check out the floor show on a video screen without sound.
I ask about her family and share details about mine. I’m not sure how we get on the subject but she tells me that Belgians are very reserved. I ask if her parents ever say I love you. No but they show it in other ways. I tell her about the first time my mother said she loved me, a few years back. I froze and mumbled a response and hung up the phone.
—29 January 2025
I linger in bed. The swelling seas woke me at 0300, rolling me around my bed. It wasn’t until I flopped on my belly, legs splayed, that I could keep my position.
We’ve reached 59°49.37' S.
An engine tour is scheduled for 0900. I haven’t booked it but head down at 0830 to see if I can join. Camille tells me it’s fully booked. But not to worry. They’ll run it throughout the trip.
I miss breakfast and take some fruit and cakes from the third deck lounge. I duck into the deck six observation lounge. It’s full of people reading. The couple from Singapore are standing by the bar and we chat briefly before they head back to their room.
Back in mine I text Natalie to ask if she has a sofa in her room. I had seen one through an open door on her deck. She’s not so lucky. But she’s talked with guests who have bathtubs!
She asks if I’m going to Leonie’s talk on phytoplankton and krill at 1100. I am. We make plans to meet before. It’s a fantastic look into the small species upon which so much life depends. It’s incredible how such tiny organisms sustain so much.
We take lunch in the restaurant on deck six. Jana and Jeff, both from Texas, join us and Patricia, an American ex-pat living in New Zealand. She works for the Antarctic Heritage Trust. Their mission? To conserve, share and encourage the spirit of exploration. She’s on board as a respresentative of the Trust, to help and to guide a fundraising auction for the Trust.
She’s been working with the Trust for five years but this is her first time down to Antarctica. Employees of the Trust go down yearly to maintain and restore some of the historic huts, including those of Scott’s Terra Nova and Shackleton’s Nimrod expendtions, but she’s not a specialist and is therefore not deemed essential (her background is in fundraising). This is her first opportunity to visit.
After lunch I head back to the cabin to nap. At lunch Natalie had made a comment about the amount of dessert on board and her skeptical look when I said I might go to the gym gives me the encouragement to go. I ask the spa attendants to show me how to use the treadmill and hop on. It’s amazing to exercise staring out at the endless sea. It becomes a daily activity.
At 1630 Natalie gives her first lecture of the cruise. She speaks on creativity and exploration, highlighting the way in which creative solutions were applied to the problems inherent in polar exploration. It’s full of fascinating anecdotes and can’t be contained into 40 minutes.
After dinner I head back to the bridge. The water temperature is 1° and the Safety Officer tells me they now have to be more vigilant; they have to be on the watch for ice bergs. She tells me about her grandfather. It was his birthday yesterday, though it’s still yesterday for him. I ask if they had a party. She’s not sure, but she talks of parties he has thrown and he sounds like a legend.
I meet able seaman June, from the Philippines, and Pierre, a cadet on board. June’s been at sea for 10 years. He’s on this cruise and then the next before having two months break. Then it’s on for another six months. He stands by the forward windows, binoculars in hand.
As I’m about to leave the bridge I fall into conversation with the Captain. He’s from Bordeaux but not in the wine region. He lives near the largest sand dunes in Western Europe. I had no idea such a thing existed and he digs out his phone to show me. There’s a picture of him, paragliding. He tells me that it’s great doing it by the ocean because you can read the wind off the waves. I imagine it’s no coincidence that his career influences his hobbies (or vice versa). He tells me he windsurfed as a child and so it all comes around full circle.
They tell me tomorrow should be sunny and calmer. The Captain hopes to see whales. He says that further south there’s a decent chance of seeing orca, which would be a huge treat.
He retires shortly thereafter and I follow. It’s just past open bridge hours and I bid June, Pierre, and the Safety Officer good night. Tomorrow, icebergs.
—30 January 2025
It’s our third full day at sea. We’ve reached 65°08.32' S.
It’s another day of scheduled talks and meals and champagne. It’s come to pass that if Patricia, Natalie, and I are seen together we’ll each have a glass in hand. Our group chat is called ‘Champagne Supanovas.’
Last night a competition was announced to see who will spot the first iceberg. A winner is announced in the morning. I don’t see it.
The first talk of the day is from Manuel, who speaks about penguins. The second is from Patricia who talks about Antarctic Heritage Trust and the work they’ve done restoring and preserving the huts used by explorers during the Heroic Age of Antarctic Exploration. It’s incredible the work they’ve done as she shows us before slides of the wooden huts almost completely encased in ice. The after slides make it look as though the inhabitants had just left, out for a walk to return later in the day.
She tells us that tomorrow we may be able to visit Borchgrevink’s Hut, associated with Carsten Borchgrevink’s British Antarctic (Southern Cross) Expedition 1898–1900, the “only example of humanitie’s first building on any continent.” Xavier is quick to jump on stage afterwards to tell us that nothing is certain and not to get our hopes up too high.
At lunch I spot my first whale, and then see a fin whale while on the treadmill. Snow petrels fly by the windows.
Natalie and I dine with Sabrina and Lachie. They met in Uni, having studied the same things. She had told a story about their first date during their presentation on identifying birds. How he had heard of a rare bird that had appeared in the area and how he had convinced her to spend their first date in search of it. Fortunately for him, the venture and the date were both successful.
After dinner I catch them on the bridge on the lookout for whales and other animals. Alice and Mark linger as well, gazing out at the expanse of sea before us. The sun won’t set until late and we’re happy to take advantage of the long daylight hours.
Eventually, the guides head below decks to rest and I linger to chat with the Safety Officer and June. I ask the Safety Officer what they’d do if they weren’t at sea. Their backup plan was either marine biology or architecture, but the sea is their calling.
June spots a blow and I ask the Saftey Officer if they know how far it is. They say June is really good at estimating distances. 8 cables, or 0.8 nautical miles, he says, though it’s just an estimate. I’m inclined to trust him.
Aude joins us on the bridge and we spot more fin whales crossing the bow of the ship. We navigate around them, offering them a wider berth.
The Safety Officer tells me that there’ll be an Officer’s dinner one night. I ask them if I should sign up. Yes, though they don’t know if they’ll be able to attend as it occurs during their watch. But we’ll see.
Pierre heads outside to take a reading and the Safety Officer tells me I can head out to watch him. He sets up the instrument and takes a sighting, rubbing his hands to keep them warm. Once taken, he’s all too happy to head back indoors.
At 2200 the bridge closes and I take my leave, saying good night to June, Pierre, and the Safety Officer. The sun has yet to set; the clouds on the horizon are just taking on the color of cotton candy. I tell them I look forward to seeing them tomorrow. Tomorrow we’ll see land.
Back in my cabin I check our progress before going to bed. We’ve reached 68°18.93'S. The sunrise at our present position is at 03:46.🇦🇶
—31 January 2025
